


A Final Wish from Death

by The_Coqui_Writes



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Biting, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Bound, Bruising, Clothed Sex, Foreplay, Grinding, Gun Kink, Kidnapping, Kissing, Lots of it, Luci-per, Lucio is scared but also want sumthing, Lucio/Reaper - Freeform, M/M, Making Out, Masturbation, Mentions of brainwashing, Mild Gore, NUFF SAID, Nothing much, Orgasm Denial, Reaper is just confused as hell, Reaper/Lucio - Freeform, Riding, Tags will be updated, Teasing, Tendrils, Wet Dream, cant really call em tentacles really, enemies end up making out, handjob, he tours in my country, hotel room, just because of Reaper's face, lucio is kinda kinky, lucio is touring, make out, mild dirty talk, this is full on consentual, what is that kink called on pressing the boot over one's crotch?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2018-09-27 13:59:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10023857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Coqui_Writes/pseuds/The_Coqui_Writes
Summary: It should be easy.  Just shoot the DJ and leave.  Why is it so hard for Reaper to do? “What is with you? You’re a fucking kid facing potential death by me and you treat it like if you’re date got canceled!”Lúcio shrugs, using his calm facade to hide his terror. “I guess after facing death a shitton of times, the shock factor fades. Oh, I’m scared! Maybe I forgot how to show it. Still, is it too much to ask for a final wish? Just one? What’s the hurry?”Reaper paused, considering the question. “Like?”“How about a kiss from death itself?”





	1. Death Lurks

**Author's Note:**

> I deeply crave for Reaper/Lucio. So this idea lingered in my brain for who knows how long and I finally wrote it in paper. Then I let it hanging until just recently! I am still very very rusty when writing nsfw scenarios. Very... Very...
> 
> Oh! I like to thank Letmeshinebright for helpful tips in writing!! Go check their fics if you love Reinhardt/Lucio!!

He remembers how the crowd went wild when he did his show. He remembers gazing at the crowd all over, jumping in rhythm to his music. Multiple people within the mass waved the flag of their country. Lúcio can’t blame them; this was his first time touring the island. At first the location got shrugged off due to his manager believing his popularity not being high enough to fill up an entire stadium. But after some heavy convincing and research on social media, Lúcio finally got approval that he be heading to Puerto Rico for not one but two concerts! The demands were surprisingly high.

He stared at his tablet, warming up on his basic Spanish with the hope that he could at least handle an interview in the native language. Despite the mild similarities, this language itself is not Portuguese so it’ll be tricky. Looking through his social media, he sees tweets from fans excited and overjoyed by his visit, many saying they are ready for the upcoming concert. Others claim they are waiting in the airport to catch a glimpse of the DJ himself. It won’t hurt to see a few fans around the airport, offering to take selfies with them.

Once the plane had landed he was reunited with the rest of his crew, who had arrived earlier that day. His companions rambled on about how they didn’t expect this much attention. Lúcio scolded them for doubting him, knowing that these shows will turn out packed, at least according to the ticket sales.

But still, he underestimated his fans. He couldn’t leave through the normal airport exit. It was crowded by a mob of waiting fans, news reporters and photographers. It wasn’t something he hadn’t seen before, but this goes to show his crew that this concert will be a pure success. Lúcio just couldn’t wait to rub it into his manager’s face.

The day of the concert finally arrived. He was facing the crowd, raising his right hands up in the air, fingers making the peace sign. He watched as his audience signed back, cheers rising in volume.

“How are we doing Puerto Rico?!” The crowd exploded in response, going absolutely wild.

He began playing his music, eyes scanning through the crowd as they jumped to the beat of his music. The emotion was contagious. His smile only grew while his hands continued to work the music, head bobbing to the beat.

As Lúcio scanned the sea of people, his eyes happened to catch on one single member in the crowd, not jumping along with the rest of the audience. Whoever it was, he stood there, giving a blank stare directly at Lúcio.

"That’s a strange…" Lúcio's eyes squinted, trying to get a better image of the face.

It’s a mask. The man is wearing a mask underneath his black hood. It triggers a memory. The appearance matched perfectly of a certain enemy that works for the terrorist organization known as Talon. This man is infamous for that mask that resembles that of a skull…

Or was it a barn owl?

His hands didn’t stop playing music; it was like they were in auto pilot. But the rest of his body and mind froze. All the noise around him slowly began to muffle to the point that the only thing he can hear was his own heartbeat. He watched the masked man give him a death glare, not moving from his spot. His attire made him stick out, yet nobody in the audience seems to take notice of that.

“Reaper…” That could only mean one thing.

Talon wants his head.

Perhaps Widowmaker was around, aiming a bullet right at his head from outside the stadium. Perhaps they rigged the building with explosives to take him down along with the crowd of fans. Does he have any proof of those assumptions? No. Should he cancel his show and tell his audience to leave?

That would stir the crowd into panic mode, turning this joyous event into mass mayhem. Besides, it was the last song. There is nothing else after this. They will soon have to leave. He’s taking a huge risk not saying a word, any second disaster could strike. Any second this stadium could be filled with dead bodies and he did nothing to stop it.

His music ended.

His concert finished

And nothing happened.

Everything went smoothly. Too smoothly. He didn’t even say a word to his staff, team or manager, fearing he would create panic. He gets escorted back to his hotel, eyes staring out the window of the car to take the sight of the city.

As the car drove on he tried to absorb as many details of the island around him as possible, watching every building that they passed. The city lights that twinkled in the distance reminded him of Christmas lights.

Though he tried to push back the grim thoughts, Lúcio tried to take a good look at everything that passed as if it was his last hour. Knowing Talon’s history, they could have rigged the car.

His way of thinking sounded horrible, but his status has taught him to always assume the worse. He just isn’t vocal about it.

He said it time and time again: he’s too young to die. But it can happen. Chances were higher now than ever before now that Lúcio was part of an organization meant to save the world.

The whole ride lasted twenty minutes. Twenty minutes of silence. Twenty minutes of enduring his rapid beating heart. He used all the strength he could to have a poker face, to nod at every word his manager spoke to him. Even his bodyguard noticed the lack of his iconic optimism. When questioned, Lúcio merely shrugged, saying he was exhausted. And with jetlag and the concert, it was a convincing excuse.

His manager interrupted the silence informing him that Lúcio has an opening in his schedule. He was always the kind of guy who loved to explore at least 10% of the island. His manager offered that they could forget about going to the hotel and check out the tourist attractions.  
  
A part of Lúcio wanted to say yes, a part of him wanted to explore at least one town in this country, try out their foods and sight-see. But the fear was stronger. He asked instead for a rain check while rubbing his tired, sore eyes. All he wants is to continue his trip back to the hotel and get some sleep.  
  
Finally, he was alone in his room, listening to the small whistling noises coming from the outside. His lips curved. If he were to die now, that musical tune will definitely be nice background music. It’s just incredible to his ears how all that sound came from tiny tree frogs hiding just under the leaves of the nearby plants. He’s tempted to walk out to the balcony so his ears can absorb that beautiful sound.  
  
Not a good idea. Once he’s out, it could be a bullet in the head. Instead, he hastily grabbed the curtains and closed them, blocking the entrance and the view of the balcony.

As beautiful as the night is, a sense of loneliness lurked in the back of his mind. On nights like these he would find someone, a friend with benefits of sorts, to spend the night with to let off some steam. But tonight wasn’t his night. He can’t risk a lover’s life if Talon was after him. Still, the feeling of having someone embrace you while in bed felt nice. But he had yet to find someone he truly connected with. But he will admit he enjoyed his time with the people he met that led to his room during his tours.  
  
Jumping onto the queen sized bed, he grabbed the largest pillow he could find and embraced it, hoping it would soothe the feeling of loneliness and fear. The problem was he was uncertain if he should consider this whole thing an emergency. Does he have enough evidence and reason to call for backup? Should he call anyone from Overwatch at all?  
  
Lúcio’s hand reached for his phone, accidentally pushing it off the wooden nightstand, making a light thump as it hit the carpet floor. He cursed under his breath, unwillingly standing up to reach for his phone. His eyes didn’t take notice of the dark mist slipping right through the small gap between the bottom of the hotel room door and the floor. It slithers around, remaining low so that the DJ wouldn’t take notice. Soon it began to take form and it was a matter of time before Lúcio noticed the new presence. The air went cold, sending a chill down Lúcio’s spine.

He had his phone in his hands. He was ready to dial any second for help. Yet, his body went rigid.  
  
After a few seconds of tension, he raised his head up, finding the familiar hooded enemy standing right in front of the bed. The dim lighting from the solitary lamp creates an atmosphere of terror to the youth. He stared down at the DJ, a gruff exhale slips out from behind the ghostly mask. Lúcio knew that from this point on, he’s fucked. He’s going to have a bullet to his head, found dead by his manager or one of the members of his crew. He’s literally shitting bricks with terror. Yet all that came in mind is how friends and family will react to his death.

“Grim Reaper.”

Reaper flinches, not believing the words he heard. “It’s just Reaper.”

What? A response? The guy didn’t even pull out his shotgun.

“Same thing.” Lúcio’s body seems to relax as he lets out a scoff. Reaper stared at what will be his prey, bothered by the fact that the youth seemed unfazed by the situation. He didn’t seem to be bothered at all by the fact that a well known murderer was in his hotel room. There is no way he doesn’t know that fact.

Reaper questioned Talon’s orders when he given the mission to snuff out the famous DJ. In his perspective, he only saw him as a mild nuisance. In no way is he associated with rich leaders of massive companies. He is a musician playing music for fun and an activist. Sure, whenever Reaper saw him during one of Talon’s assigned missions, he does all he can to shoot him when he gets in the way. Sadly, he underestimates how agile the DJ is when he’s got those skates with him.

But he doesn’t have the skates. He doesn’t have his weapon at all, so this is a great opportunity, correct?

Despite Lúcio being a part of Overwatch, his importance seemed minor. He is a support. A healer. If a healer needs to be killed, it should be Angela Zeigler or Ana Amari.

“Leaving me hanging?”  
Reaper soon realized he momentarily spaced out.

“What?”

“Just tell me, man. Why are you here? Am I in Talon’s hit list? Is this my last moment to live?”

“I question why Talon would waste their time with someone like you.” Reaper huffed, crossing his arms before leaning against the cement wall. “Why aren’t you pulling out your weapon?”

“Huh? Oh… uh… Sadly, my tech is out of my grasp at the moment.” Lúcio explained as he scratched his chin. He watches the hooded man pull out one of his shotguns from his coat, reloading its ammunition. If Lúcio could throw something up from his mouth, it would be his heart. Should he resist? Should he risk the lives of many sleeping in this hotel for tonight? “Oh… So this is legit. Fine then. I’ll probably become a martyr in my country.”

“Maybe influencing your fans to support Overwatch wasn’t the best idea, kid.” He aims the gun over the temple of Lúcio’s forehead, hoping to finish with it soon. Although he is the type of man who loves to torture his enemies, to leave them as a corpse with a face of terror, he didn’t want to waste his time with a kid like this.

Lúcio breathes slowly, crossing his arms but didn’t move from his spot. He didn’t even touch the shotgun or push it away. All he did was look at it. “Do I get a final wish?”

Is he serious?

It should be easy. Just shoot him and leave. Why is it so hard for Reaper to do? “What is with you? You’re a fucking kid facing potential death by me and you treat it like if you’re date got canceled!”

Lúcio shrugs, using his calm facade to hide his terror. “I guess after facing death a shitton of times, the shock factor fades. Oh, I’m scared! Maybe I forgot how to show it. Still, is it too much to ask for a final wish? Just one? What’s the hurry?”

Reaper paused, considering the question. “Like?”

“How about a kiss from death itself?” Lúcio smirked, gesturing with his lips. Reaper bolts up, shocked at the random request. It has to be some sort of trap, there is no way that is his request.

Reaper growled, lowering his shotgun. “People run in horror when the mask is off. Have you even seen my real face?”

“Yup, I did.” He should receive an award for his poker face. If only Reaper knew Lúcio’s actual terror.

Reaper tilts his head perplexed. “What?”

“I didn’t run. I mean, I couldn’t. You busted my skates during one of our encounters.” He keeps up with his deceiving calmness, wondering if he’ll find an opening to call for help. “Wait? You don’t remember? A year ago one of your bullets busted my skates. With my sonic amplifier I shot you right in the face and your mask flew right off.”

A year ago? Reaper can’t even remember the face of the people he murdered yesterday. “Aren’t I too old for you?”

“How am I supposed to know? You never talk about yourself. Sometimes I’d think that all those death threats from our previous meetings were a way to flirt with me. I mean, I am a handsome devil, right?” He grins, not hesitating brushing back his loose dreadlocks. “My hair is amazing after all.”

“You are a fucking narcissist.” Was all Reaper could muster.

“Hey, thanks.” He looks at the shotguns then back at Reaper. “Okay, no joke but why are you really here? You wouldn’t have cared one bit what I said and just killed me. Something is up.”

“Kid, Like I said: I am old.” Reaper growled.

Lúcio scoffs, sitting up on the edge of his bed.

“For the last time, stop calling me that. That word… “kid” I get it. I’m surrounded by a heckload of old people but I am fucking tired of that word. I am fucking twenty seven. Almost in my thirties. You still want to keep this up?!”

Reaper definitely hit a nerve. He’s surprised himself by such reaction. “You don’t seem like the mad type.”

“Everyone assumes that.” Lúcio mumbled under his breath, glaring up at his enemy.

Point taken. After all, this is the man that managed to scare away Vishkar from the Favelas of Rio de Janeiro.

What is there to lose?

Reaper knows he has time to kill. And his prey requested for a kiss. That would involve him to remove his mask and reveal his face. The idea to scare the DJ was something he indeed looks forward too. He removes his hood, hands going to unclip the holders of his mask. Lúcio’s heart skipped a beat, wondering what he got himself into. All he can do is buy himself time while thinking of a plan to escape, right?

Slowly raising his hand to his face, the mask was finally removed. The lamp providing just enough light to reveal the real face that belongs to the famous Reaper. He waits for Lúcio to react, to step back in fear. All he received was the sight of Lúcio’s eyes widening and a smile.

Reaper’s eyes were the color of pitch black with crimson red irises. Sections of his face are madly decayed, and instead of finding the right side of his cheek Lúcio could see a glimpse of Reaper’s sharp teeth. The tone of his complexion is of dark grey along with scars. Adding that all together, he indeed looked like a walking corpse. Lúcio’s reaction only made Reaper’s blood boil.

“Well?!”

“Dude, I said I saw your face before. This isn’t such a shock.”

“Ugh…” Reaper couldn’t believe he forgot that detail. So much for a great first impression. “You really want this?”

“Hey, I asked for a final wish. You can just shoot me if you want.” He added, making the gun gesture.

Although it was quick, Lúcio finally gets his wish as Reaper bends forward, his lips makes contact with the DJ’s. If his appearance doesn’t scare the celebrity, then maybe the disgust of kissing him would do the trick.

It felt like kissing someone that came right out of the freezing winter. His lips were too cold, horribly chapped and the tongue didn’t even bring single warmth. Making out with a man with such face should be considered horrible, demonic and monstrous. But Lúcio didn’t flinch away despite the strong embrace between them. Reaper kept him him still, coated arms around his torso. He feels the man’s heavy breathing with every kiss, hearing a low growl rising on his chest that it sends a sense of shock all over his body.

Lúcio’s breath hitching between kisses, feeling the thrill go down his spine and towards his groin. His eye looks to the side, finding his phone resting a foot away from him. Reaper is still occupied with the make-out, eyes closed tightly enjoying the tongue play. Lúcio’s hands subtly attempt to reach out to his phone, taking his golden opportunity to call for help.

Should he? His phone was so close to his grasp. He has a chance. Yet the way Reaper forced his tongue inside Lúcio’s mouth, those sharp teeth tenderly nipping at the DJ’s lips, their torsos pressed against each other… The man on top of him was too horny to even notice.

Lúcio has to face it. He’s horny himself and this man is a great kisser. After long seconds of thinking, his hand retracts from the phone, focusing on their moment of intimacy.

After what felt like forever, Reaper parts from the kiss, taking a good look at the youth catching his breath. Lúcio couldn’t help but giggle. Reaper rolls his pitch black eyes, not believing where this is going.

His eyes gazed down between both of them, eyes widening. “Are you serious…?”

“Huh, what?”

“Is this arousing you?” Reaper growled, not believing the words from his mouth. He looks down, witnessing a tent that formed on the crotch area of Lúcio’s boxers; a tent that is poking Reaper’s abdomen.

“Oh… uh…” Lúcio murmured.

Reaper has no idea why they are doing this from the start. He lets go of Lúcio, letting him drop on the bed.

“Wait, wait!” Lúcio pleaded, reaching out to him.

“Why don’t you fear me?! I can just kill you any second now! And here you are getting turned on by my presence?!” He gestures at DJ’s erection, swearing he watched it twitch under the fabric.

Lúcio stayed silent, grabbing a pillow to cover his crotch. “Of course I fear you! I’m trembling like shit! Still, you didn’t mind giving me that awesome kiss, didn’t you?” No response. He was getting somewhere. “Grant me my wish and I’ll let you do whatever you want with me.”

“What is your wish again?”

“A kiss from death.... or more.” Lúcio fancily crosses his legs, lifting one foot to tap it over Reaper’s chest. He sees the man bite his lower lip, unsure how to react to such situation. Reaper’s eyes gaze at the celebrity’s body, seeing how neatly toned his legs are. And those thighs...

Fuck it.

There both are at it again, resuming where they left off. This time their kisses are anything but neat and clean. It was aggressive, sloppy and with the use of teeth from both of them. For a long time Reaper has forgotten this feeling, the feeling of embracing someone with a warm body temperature. He held the back of Lúcio’s neck, the sharp talons poking at the flesh.  
The DJ desired more for their bodies to make contact, tangling one leg over Reaper’s torso. He adds a playful grind, feeling temporary relief over his crotch. He hears another growl coming from the assassin, his brain debating if he should take that as a good or bad sign. Lúcio didn’t take any chances, deciding to stop.

“If you don’t want to, it’s fine.” He watches Reaper pull away, eyes perplexed by his comment. His low raspy breathing sent a tingle down the DJ’s spine. “Hey, I may be a horny musician but I’d like to know if my partner is comfortable.”

“Dumb question to ask… But I’m fine.” It was all he could muster as his gloved fingers go to touch Lúcio’s soft plump lips. They were marked with minor bruises from their previous make out session. The clawed finger poked the bottom lip, causing a whimper to slip from Lúcio. Reaper’s hands dragged down to Lúcio’s chest, giving him a light push. The Brazilian got the message and rested his body on the bed. Reaper gazed down at Lúcio’s, hands fiddling to remove his gloves. Letting them drop on the floor he leans closer, face inches away from Lúcio’s

Lúcio snickers. “See something you like?”

Reaper tilts his head. “Your eyes.”

Lúcio giggles like a child. “Wow, that’s a first.”

Reaper raised his eyebrow, confused by his words. He stopped thinking about it, letting his dried lips sneak to his neck, feeling Lúcio’s whole body shudder underneath him. Lúcio’s arms go behind Reaper’s back, hands grabbing a handful of his leather coat, signaling he wants more.

The freezing cold tongue brushes over his sensitive neck. Lúcio whimpers, his hidden cock twitching between both of them, begging to release while staining his boxers with pre-cum. His ear then received attention, causing a few moans and gasps to rise in volume. Lúcio’s moaning is music to Reaper’s ears. The tall man shifts, feeling the tightness of his own thick pants almost send him on a frenzy. A variety of sexual thoughts passed over his brain. He could just fuck the living daylights out of this musician or rub his cock between those ass cheeks. Reaper also didn’t mind the average dry humping. But where is the fun in rushing? His hand slips between their bodies, grasping with care at Lúcio’s bulge, giving a light massage. “Haaaa!”

Lúcio’s hands moves to Reaper’s chest, desperately searching for any method to remove the thick coat. The Talon agent wasn’t going to have any of it grabbing both of Lúcio’s wrists with one hand, placing them flat on the bed above Lúcio’s head. He watches the muddled DJ stare at him with both arousal and fear. “You don’t decide to take off my suit, you hear me?”

“Whoa” was all Lúcio mumbled, hips shifting as much as he could against Reaper.

“You seriously into this?” He gestured at Lúcio’s bound wrists, hand still teasing at the bulge. “You are sick.”

Lúcio rolls his eyes. “What? Can’t- ha...ah... a guy like getting dominated?...shit...” His eyes roll back at the pressure on his dick.

It’s hilarious how this all started as a plot for the DJ to escape death. And now here he is, enjoying his current strange moment of intimacy with limited mobility. Perhaps the blame is the adrenaline rush. It has to be. What other explanation is there?

His mind didn’t linger at that thought anymore when he winces, feeling Reaper’s teeth bite softly at his neck. These are one of those moments he thanks God for wearing a tank top. Reaper missed that greedy grin forming on Lúcio's face. Reaper switches sides of Lúcio’s neck, giving it the same treatment with his teeth. He didn’t want to leave any spot untouched, getting aggressive with his teeth while tightening his grip at his lover’s wrists.

Though futile, Lúcio still gave a few struggles each minute for the sake of the thrill. “Don’t.” Reaper demanded, gritting his teeth. Lúcio embraces the enticing growl, not letting the enemy’s words stop him. Reaper’s parts from his crotch, hand sliding behind him to get a nice grip of the surprising softness of Lúcio’s ass. “Ever been fucked?” He whispered like if it was a threat.

“Is that a threat, coruja?” He winces, feeling the grip of his ass cheek tighten. “I’ve fucked and been fucked- Ow!!” Reaper wasn’t taking anymore of that smartass attitude of the youth, sinking his teeth deeper at his neck. Lúcio reacts, his right leg kick Reaper’s shin.

“Damn it, you hit hard!” Reaper mumbles, parting from the neck, licking off the mild blood from his lips.

“Be glad I don’t have my suit.” He hissed, unbothered by the bite.  
Reaper rolled his eyes, ignoring that shit eating grin. “Metal pants.”  
“A. Suit.” Lúcio made clear, clenching his teeth. Reaper grunts, licking with tenderness at the wound to clean off the blood and soothe the pain.

“Why didn’t you finish me at my concert?” That question did come out of the blue, causing the tall man to part again from his neck, which is becoming an annoyance. “I saw you. You stood out. You could have murdered me right there, yet you didn’t. Was it because you would attract attention?”

Reaper leans again at his neck, taking a big whiff at his scent. “Even if it did, no one would find out it was me.”

Lúcio nods casually. “Oh. Okay. Are you still going to-” Reaper’s next movement is abrupt. He released Lúcio’s arms, changing the DJ’s position flipping from his back to his stomach. Reaper takes a good glance the youth’s whole backside, clarity leaving his brain as he takes one good look at the curvaceous ass. Lúcio strives to turn his head and see Reaper’s face, to see his expression as he feels the cold dry hands aggressively grab, massaging with roughness at his clothed rear. The enemy’s hips shifts to the air, feeling the agonizing twitch of his member under the thick fabric of his pants.

Getting impatient, feeling that the massages weren’t enough, he gets the courage to turn back. “What are you-” His sentence is cut while Reaper forces Lúcio’s head to rest against the mattress. Though it was forced, Reaper didn’t keep his head restrained for long and instead used his hand to again keep both of Lúcio’s wrist restrained. Lúcio’s body shudders underneath his grasp, hearing the hungry breathing escape from his enemy’s mouth. If this goes far, he should remind Reaper of the bottle of lube inside Lúcio’s suitcase.

Reaper decides not to hold back anymore, thrusting his hips against Lúcio’s backside. He quivers at the sensation, the friction caused by his hidden dick grinding between the youth’s ass cheeks. Not even their garments could get in the way by how incredible this felt. His grip on Lúcio’s wrists didn’t falter, keeping his shifts at a timed pace while his available hand goes and touch at the DJ’s neck and shoulders, feeling every detail of his toned muscles. Such a built body for a scrawny youth.

Lúcio loved his current position but he desired for more. Words in his native tongue slip out as he moves his ass at the same pace against Reaper’s hips, intensifying the friction. Wanting to be spicy, he spews out many vulgar words he could think in Portuguese. Reaper partially understood those words, snarling as he craves for more, swearing he saw a smug look from the DJ’s face. “Fuck… you are horny.”

Despite the incredible sensation coming from his current position, Lúcio desperately wants to have his hand under his own pants, to tease and grip his own cock while Reaper continued to hump him like an animal in heat. The friction between his hips and the bed wasn’t enough for his poor dick, crying for attention. Wanting to send a message, he gives a mild struggle, wincing as he feels the grip on his wrists tighten.

“I know what you want to do…” Reaper whispers with a growl, pausing his grinding to lean close to Lúcio’s ears. “You want to rub your cock while I thrust. You want to pump yourself while I’m busy using your sweet ass…”

“…Please… Sim… por favor…” Lúcio begged.

“Spanish?”

“…Portuguese… ass.” Lúcio hissed back.

“Kind of similar.” Reaper adds, having the desire the annoy the little fucker.

Lúcio’s jaw dropped. Did Reaper literally stop humping him just to make that remark? “No. They’re not…”

“Kinda.” He adds a lick to the ear. So this is how the night goes. Lúcio and his enemy, a man responsible for killing so many is now pinning him on the bed, huffing right at his neck and his hips shifting over the musician’s ass. Lúcio is terrified that this man will stop with his seduction and aim the shotgun right at his head. With one pull of the trigger, he’s done for.  
But he can’t deny this situation has turned him into a horny mess. He quivers at the idea of an upcoming penetration. He only hopes Reaper would be patient enough to use lubrication.  
  
“Come on… just one hand. My dick can’t wait anymore...” Lúcio turns his head enough to catch a glance at Reaper, pouting.  
  
“Keep begging and I’ll spank you.” Reaper threatens, widening his eyes so that Lúcio can take on good look at those pitch black eyes.  
  
He awaits a distasteful reaction, but Lúcio’s eyes shined with eagerness. “Fuck Yeah!! Now we’re talking!”  
  
Well, that failed. Who knew this energetic youth had an extremely kinky side? He bends forward, kissing again with tenderness at the bite marks that decorated Lúcio’s neck, his hand sneaking under his hip. With the musician’s gasp, Reaper knew he already found what he was looking for. At first, he was a sadist, having a tight grip at Lúcio’s bulge that he hears a yelp and whined cry. “Haaaaaa… FUCK!

Softening his grip Reaper rubs softly at the bulge, feeling the shape of Lúcio’s cock. Reaper savors in feeling the youth’s body tremble underneath him, begging for more like the horny mess he is. Reaper couldn’t forget himself, softly grinding his own bulge against Lúcio. One of Reaper’s fingers sneaks over to the elastic of Lúcio’s boxers, debating on whether to continue being a tease or just remove the whole underwear itself.

“Please...just fuck me…” He begged.

“You don’t tell me what to do…” He whispers, hungrily licking his own lips. “Keep ordering and I’ll fuck you up you won’t walk straight for days…” Lúcio is nothing but a quivering mess, feeling the rough cold hands go under his boxers and grasp at his shaft. His sultry moans were now vocal; it can be heard through the walls. Reaper takes charge in muffling Lúcio’s mouth, whispering him to shush as he strokes at the youth’s dick. That didn’t stop Lúcio from moaning, tongue passing over Reaper’s palm while his eyes rolling back, feeling the pace of his strokes pick up. Just a bit more for Lúcio to come. He craves for those strokes to turn aggressive, to make him go absolutely insane. If Reaper isn’t up for actual penetration, perhaps Lúcio can offer him a little pleasing with his mouth.

Reaper swears he could come just by the sight of the submissive DJ. Reaper makes himself busy with Lúcio, one hand over his drooling mouth, the other stroking faster at his dick and his hips humping with no mercy like an animal. Lúcio attempts to speak behind the hand muffling him, repeating on and on to just fuck him up with no mercy. He’s ready. He wants this. All he requires is just minor preparation. What is Reaper waiting for?

The sensation of pleasure abruptly stops, causing the DJ to blink in confusion. He feels Reaper retract his hand and carefully get off of Lúcio and the bed.

Turning around, the DJ watches him put back on his gloves. His brain questioned why right at the moment they stopped. About to speak, he’s stopped by Reaper’s finger going over his lips, ordering him to shush. He then proceeds to put back on his mask, taking his time in aligning the straps. “Weren’t we…” He halts his words, feeling the bottom of Reaper’s boot press and rub softly over his crotch.

Reaper enjoys the youth’s breath hitching, giving just a little more pressure at his crotch before parting and makes his way to the door. “Next time.” He whispers, fading into a mist of black smoke and made his escape, leaving an unsatisfied Lúcio all alone.

That motherfucker left me hanging!

He grit his teeth, rage hitting him like a ton of bricks. He grabs one of his socks lying on the bed and throws them out of anger at the wall. Gripping his pillow, he thrusts it onto his face to muffle his yells. His body rocked back and forth over the bed while he vented, unknowingly reaching the edge and falling on the carpet floor.

Standing on all fours he groans while feeling the unbearable erection. Brushing off the thick layer of sweat on his forehead, he forces his jello legs to stand up dragging himself with defeat to the bathroom. Taking his time to remove his tank top, he looks at himself in the mirror getting a clear view of his neck and shoulders. His hand goes to tenderly touch the fresh bruises, wincing in pain. That man knows how to be aggressive with his mouth.

“Does he do oral?” The thought came to him like lightning. His dick throbs, being a reminder that Lúcio still has a problem that needs to be taken care of.

Why not keep the marks?

That was a stupid idea. People will ask questions. His PR will be ruined. If his suitcase wasn’t stuffed with just tank tops, then hiding would be no problem.

He leans against the fancy marble hand wash, looking at himself at the mirror and sneers. Images flood his mind, reliving his sexual encounter. His hands slip and grasps at his bulge, his breath hitching. Fingers trace around the shape, thumb touching at the damp stain of pre-cum.

Pulling down his boxers and tossing them to the side, he groans with relief, the hardness of his cock already out after so long waiting. He little by little unclips the beads from the tip of his dreads, setting them near the hand wash. Slipping into the tub, he closes the curtains with hesitation. Switching on the shower to a warm temperature, he sighs as his muscles relax, feeling the trickling water make contact with his whole body.

Everyone says it. The shower is the perfect place to unwind. Also the perfect place to be lost in thought and pleasure oneself.

Wait.

He gapes at his thighs, finding his hands caressing them. He whimpers, eyes closed while letting himself apply friction over them, feeling the drops of water touch his aching dick as if to tease.

“You should feel shame” His brain repeated. Leaning against the cold tile walls, his hands get a good grasp at his dick, thumb pressing over the tip. He bites his lips, feeling his body tense needing more touches. He starts with soft strokes trying to imitate the same movement Reaper did. It just wasn't the same.

Reaper had a way of taking control, spewing out empty threats just to arouse the DJ enough to send him in a moaning frenzy. This is definitely a kink. Lúcio knows it. His thumb teases extensively at the head, mimicking gestures of a tongue.

Lúcio considers himself skilled in oral but there are times he’d like to have one himself. It's not something one would typically ask someone to do; more when that person is just a one night stand. But he can't help himself. He can't help having the idea of Reaper’s tongue being the one to touch the tip, to lather his saliva all over the DJ’s dick until he takes it in fully.

Back to reality, Lúcio strokes at his cock, hips shifting. He forgot the real reason he came to shower. He hasn't even touched the bar of soap. He gets a chance to massage at his chest with his available arm, fingers brushing over his taut nipples. He clenches his teeth, moaning and pinching one of them without mercy.

His pace picks up, hips shifting. His toes curl over the wet floor. Letting out a growl, Lúcio’s hand gets more aggressive with its strokes. His brain repeats nonstop that he looks like a fool, a pathetic fool getting himself off after having a near death (or near orgasm) experience with a murderer.

He remembers how Reaper shifted his hard cock against the crack of his ass. Sultry growls slipping from behind his mask as he maintains full control over the young musician. Lúcio’s body quivered. His imagination began to run wild seeing a clear image of Reaper’s hands drenched in lube, teasing his way into Lúcio’s entrance to stretch him just enough. He would embrace the youth's cries of pleasure, fingers touching at his prostate and retracts them when the DJ is close to coming.

Lúcio would beg. There is no denying to that. Words would slip out of his mouth requesting Reaper to give it to him. He longs to have something inside him. Reaper would tell him to be patient or else. The thought only worsened his state, hands pumping with speed nonstop at his cock from base to top. His hand slips from his chest to his crotch tenderly fondled his balls.

He could imagine the pressure inside his ass. He could imagine Reaper holding him down, keeping his arms bound while thrusting his dick deep inside him. Is Reaper the type of man to say words while fucking? Would he make empty threats to make sex incredible? Who knows? But imagination doesn’t hurt, right?

His own lips spewed out words, begging his imaginary lover to fuck him; fuck him nonstop and not to leave him out from the sweet pleasure of release. He wants him to have no mercy; he wants his own arms to be bound, helpless while his ass is being fucked.

His mouth hangs open, legs wobbling. He didn’t have any more strength, letting his body slide down to the surface of the tub. He didn't stop with his pumping, getting close. Just a little more to finally reach his climax. He even adds a light twist to his dick to reach his peak, eyes rolling back.

“Just fuck me hard…” He pleaded, mouth hang open as his orgasm hit, body spasming while his dick shot white strings over his stomach. Despite already releasing, he pumps his cock, letting his orgasm linger just a bit until it fades. The water washes off the stain over his torso, sliding down and circling around the drain. His hand parts from his dick, staring at it with disbelief. Disbelief over the fact that he fantasized getting dominated by an enemy.

Just what did he get himself into?


	2. Death is actually a kinky guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucio has a lewd dream and realizes he may not mind a second round.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, THANK YOU FOR YOUR DARN GOODNESS PATIENCE. Thank you all for the sweet comments/suggestions/kudos! I wanted to post sooner but I thought I'd reward you all by making this chapter a lot longer than I normally write! I am soooo sorry that this took so long. Well I guess this makes it a multi chapter porn with small plot.

The gloved hand kept an iron gripped over Lúcio’s neck. He showed no mercy, dragging the freedom fighter and slamming his whole body against the wall. Lúcio yelped, hands gripping at the enemy’s wrist while gasping for air. He witnesses the long shotgun slowly aiming at his forehead, cold metallic tip making contact with the skin. Reaper’s finger was over the trigger, waiting to be pulled. 

Yet nothing happened. His attacker remained still, looking at Lúcio’s body from top to bottom.

Despite the mask blocking his face, Lúcio could tell the Reaper was getting a strange enjoyment out of this. Lúcio chokes but worked the effort to not show any sign of fear. Instead, his eyes gave a look of boredom. That hit a nerve to Reaper, growling from behind his mask irritated. Reaper used his body to press Lúcio more against the wall, slipping his knee between the short man’s legs, indulging at the sudden gasps. The grip on his neck lessened, dead ears desiring to hear more of those noises. He grabs on to Lúcio’s right wrist, forcing his arm over his head leaving him partially bound. He then rubbed his thigh rough and hard, indulging at the pained wincing from Lúcio. 

The musician couldn’t hold back, hips shifting, following the thighs movement. Reaper wasn't going to let him have his way, so he retracts his thigh.

Lowering his gun, he grabs Lúcio by the collar of his tank top and shoves him to the nearest sofa. Lúcio grunts at the landing, unsure where this is going. Reaper’s shotgun took a different direction. Instead of aiming for his head or his chest, it went lower; drastically lower. The tip of the shotgun goes straight between his legs over his crotch, touching tenderly over the tenting bulge.

“What’s this? Already hard?” The cold tip rubs over the hidden erection, the shape of his dick seen through his boxers. Lúcio stayed rigid, refusing to react to Reaper’s form of intimidation. But he knew he couldn't last long. The act alone of having a deadly weapon rub on his groin only made this more erotic, making his cock go full on hard.

His brain creates the image of himself shifting against such weapon, seeming to ignore the fact that this weapon can shoot and kill. He covers his face with embarrassment, feeling Reaper put more pressure to it. A hiss slips between Lúcio’s teeth, rubbing his temple with his eyes tight shut, his free hand gripping hard at the sofa’s armrest. 

He feels the shotgun part away from him, replaced with something else almost causing him to groan loud with a mix of pleasure and pain. Yet he desired for more. His eyes open, witnessing the Reaper having his boot pressing over his crotch, giving it a slow and agonizing friction. “You liked that shit do you? You like my boot crushing your hard cock?” The deep tone of his voice made Lúcio’s whole body tingle. 

Lúcio tries to keep his mouth shut but it was like holding his breath. He hugs himself trying to contain himself as his body twitched and flinched, head arching back. He trembles, unable to hold himself back as he shifts to the heavy thick boot, moans filling the room knowing people will hear through the thin walls. 

“You horny fuck. What will you friends say when they see you like this?” 

-o-o-o-o-o-

Lúcio’s eyes snapped open, body drenched in sweat. He bolts up from the pillows, hands gripping over the blankets as he searched all over his hotel room. He is alone. No one is around. It was all a dream. A fucking lewd one at that. What is he? Thirteen? He brushes back his dreads, catching his breath trying to calm himself down. He scolds himself mentally for forgetting in slipping on his satin bonnet to protect his hair. He shifts his body, expecting to look for the item until he felt something damp. 

He looks down at his bed sheet. With hesitation he removes the blanket catching the sight of his boxers stained by his recent release. He covers his face in shame, grasping the fact that the indeed have a wet dream, just like his teen years. 

Then came another feeling; the feeling of disappointment on the fact that everything that happened was just a dream. He wants it to be real. He wants Reaper to place that thick boot over his crotch. He wants to be tortured and edged just like his dream. He wants him...

This might be a little bit of a problem. 

-o-o-o-o-o-

Lúcio lost count on how many times he repeated this sentence: Portuguese and Spanish aren’t the same thing. There are similarities. He can get away with just reading and understanding basic Spanish. But speaking is another story. He always spaced out in his Spanish class when he was a teenager. He has an interview coming up. Whenever he would practice on his Spanish speaking, he would cringe. 

After the interview, he walked backstage leaving the audience with a big smile as they applaud. As soon as he was out of the camera’s sight, his smile fades. The interview wasn't bad per say but it could have gone better. He looks up at his manager who gave him an awkward smile. “It wasn't that bad.”

There was silence until the DJ smiles, nodding along.With his music and freedom fighting, it's hard to even brush up the basic phrases of the languages of every country he visits. “I need a break, Martim.”

“I'll send André to go with you.” Martim adds.

Lúcio halts his footsteps, turning back to his manager. “No bodyguards, I swear to god if you-” 

“Oh I'm sorry. I thought you were an international DJ known for… What's the word Im looking for? ‘Revolting’?” Martim stared down at him like he’s insane.

Lúcio smirked. “I’m gross?”

“I didn't mean that.” He hissed, not appreciating Lúcio’s timing to joke. “And let's not forget how many aren't fond of you being pro omnic rights. And you work part time with them...”

“Overwatch.” Lúcio adds.

Martim shushes him, hoping no one who was passing by heard them. “Do you want to say that out loud?!” He whispers with panic. 

Lúcio looks around. “So far nothing has happened.” 

“Nothing? If I recall, yesterday you were off. You were too calm. It wasn't like you. You stare off the window of the car like if someone broke up with you.” Martim adds, remembering very clearly the details.

Lúcio sighs, trying to think of a better cover up. “Jet lag. I was tired. Maybe a little culture shock. I miss home, a lot. Like anyone. But the show must go on.” 

That seems to convince Martim. “...Want me to search for a Brazilian restaurant?” 

“No, but I appreciate the offer.” Lúcio chuckled, crossing his arms. 

Martim’s eyes squint. “Are you going to do another disappearing act to get away from us?”

“Yuuuuuuup.” Lúcio smirked hearing the frustrated sigh from his manager. 

-o-o-o-o-o-

His first touring destination is the famous Old San Juan. Thirty years ago the town was rebuilt to resemble almost exactly how it looked before the first Omnic Crisis. Many of the small city’s architecture carried a Spanish heritage with the narrow cobblestone streets, tile-roofed buildings with small ornate balconies. It almost reminded him of the town of Dorado. Similar yet different. 

He researched on how the island was affected by the crisis. The north, west and south of the island got hit heavy with it. It reminded him how Brazil had to recuperate from the event. He was born right after the Crisis ended so all he witnessed his whole life were the after effects. 

Resuming back with his solo touring, he admires the different colors of each building he walked by. He admired every single urban art he bumped into. Oh, and how could he resist in trying out the different kinds of foods? He first orders a Piragua, shaved ice dessert that comes in the shape of a cone filled with fruit flavored syrup. Perfect for a hot weather. He watches the woman work on his order, noticing her gaze switching repeatedly to him.

Once she gives him his order, she takes one last look, her eyes shining. “¿Eres DJ Lúcio?”

Well his current disguise failed him. Sure Lúcio isn't the type of man to cover up too much. He would just walk with a cap, sunglasses and not tie up his dreadlocks. He would even hold back wearing anything green. His shirt is just a white tank top with D.Va’s logo. A different look compared to what people see in his poster.

Usually a celebrity like him would say no and walk away. He instead smiled and nods. The woman looked ecstatic but didn't squeal. She just realized a famous celebrity just bought something from her kiosk. One selfie with a fan later and now he goes on to enjoy his cold treat.

He sits on a bench near the town's cathedral, hiding away from the wrath of the sun under a tree. He looks around, watching people walk by. Looking around the buildings, he catches a gap leading to an alleyway. His eyes squint, catching a glimpse of someone familiar staring right at him. 

Reaper. 

Lúcio body froze. Yet his mind didn't go on a state of panic like last night. A strange feeling of curiosity passed his mind. Is this when he’s finally going to get assassinated or is the Reaper just wandering around? 

Remembering last night's encounter, Lúcio has the horrible temptation to pull the middle finger at Reaper for leaving him hanging. Before he could act, a car passes by blocking the view of the alleyway. As soon as it leaves, Reaper is nowhere to be seen. 

Lúcio lowered his cup and sighed. Just how the hell can he wear that suit in the heat?

After hours of touring, exploring and trying out different foods, he decided to give himself a break. He sat on the wide grasslands located in front of El Morro Fortress (also known as Castillo San Felipe del Morro). This fortress was used by the Spanish half a millennia ago. Around the 1960’s it became a national park, rebuilt to resemble its original form. It was rebuilt a second time when the first omnic crisis came to an end. 

Although many tourists go to visit the fortress, most of them come to the grasslands just to fly kites. With the heavy breeze of the ocean and the wide space, it's perfect. The site is so relaxing he swears he could sleep right there.

He takes a huge bite of his appetizing sandwich, continuing to enjoy the sight. His phone blares from his pocket, interrupting his lounging. Pulling out his phone, he prays it isn't Martim ready to be a kill joy. Checking the ID caller he smiles and sighs with relief right before hitting the answer button. The screen changes, revealing a familiar face. “Lúcio! How’s your tour going?!”

“Oh Hana! I am spending my time telling Martim and the others ‘I told you so’.” He gloats, taking another bite of his sandwich.

“So the concert was a success?” Hana leans closer to the screen. “Hey, scoot to the side!”

Lúcio raised an eyebrow, witnessing Hana’s phone being snatched away and camera now facing Reinhardt’s face. “Bring souvenirs!!”

“Give it back!” She complained, failing to snatch away the phone from the tall man. Reinhardt laughs but decides to have mercy on her, returning her phone. Before she could have her chance, her phone is snatched again.

“Oy! Frog boy! Take pictures of them tiddie mountains!!” Junkrat request, face too close to the camera that all Lúcio could see is his nose. 

“Junkrat, what the fuck?!” Hana yells, not giving up without a fight.

“Ya know! The mountains named after tiddies-hey!” The phone is finally snatched away from the tall bomber.

“Uh… you mean ‘Las tetas de Cayey’?” Lúcio holds back laughter, embarrassed he had to say that.

Hana groans. “Uuuuughh, ignore him. So what are you doing?” 

“Touring.” Lúcio reveals his location, capturing the view of the area for Hana and Reinhardt to see. “So these people are reaaaallly into kite flying.” 

“Goodness! They did rebuild it again like before! I remember being there with the strike team when the giant omnics emerged from the ocean.” Reinhardt rambled on. “Perhaps I should visit. I do need a good tan.” He rubs his beard, now questioning if he needs a shave.

“You can do that in a tanning salon.” Hana rolls her eyes.

“I don't think tanning salons can work with men of my size. Also I don't want to be orange!” It is almost like the thought put him in a state of panic.

Hana looks back at Lúcio. “So the concert went smooth?” 

“Yeaaaaah it went great!” Lúcio regrets having to hesitate. 

Hana’s smile faded. “Did something happen?” 

“What? Nooooooo.” He mentally curses at himself. 

“Hey, you can tell me anything. You know that?” She adds, leaning closer to the screen. Her tone showed concern. 

Lúcio sighed. “Had a moment with someone. That someone left me hanging. Nuff said.” He’s clear with his last sentence, looking away as his eyes catch the ocean. 

He hears Hana hiss through her teeth. “That’s a dick move.” 

“Ah screw them.” Lúcio shrugs.

“I take it you don't want to talk more about it?”

“Too private. But I still can say ‘screw em’.” He shrugs, looking back at the camera. 

“Good job.” Hana hummed rubbing her chin like if idea was forming. “You need friends to accompany you. I should just buy a ticket and get here!”

Lúcio’s face shined. “That would be awesome!”

“Now if Winston would give me an opening… Ugh.” She groans. 

“Ahhh…” Now Lúcio was sad again. 

The sound of a child yelling cuts him out of his thought. Looking in front of him, his eyes detects a kite spool floating near his direction. With quick reflex he catches it, stopping a red kite from making its escape. A boy around the age of five or six rush towards his direction. Halting his footsteps he catches his breath. “Disculpa, ese es mio…” He pants. 

“Aqui tienes.” Lúcio smiled returning him the kite spool, giving him a quick tip on how to grip at it. “Cuidado la proxima vez.” He prays he got that sentence right.

The boy chuckled, probably due to the strange accent but he said nothing. He lives in a town filled with tourists after all. But one long look at the adults face and the boy’s expressions changed. “¿Eres DJ Lúcio…?”

You know a disguise isn't good when a kid finds out who you are. “Maybe?” He winks, placing his index finger over his own lips. 

The boy had a big smile in his face. “I love your music!!” He said in a squeaky whisper. “Can you… uh… puedes… tal vez… ¿foto?” He pulls out his phone, now feeling absolutely shy. One didn't need to ask him again. Lúcio nods and join to take a selfie with the boy, the experience reminding him why he loves his fans. After the photo was taken, the boy looked up and thanked him, right before he rushed off with the kite in hand. 

Lúcio picks up his phone again, watching Hana stare at him with a raised eyebrow. “So what was that about?”

Lúcio chuckles. “Just a fan.” 

Hana snickers. “I told you that disguise would fail!”

“Eh, no one is perfect.” He returns to gaze at the sight of the people flying their kite. “It's been long since I chilled in a tour.” He sighed.

“You look like you needed a break.” Hana suggested. “I'll see if I can convince Winston to pass by. Okay? Talk to ya later.” She winked before hanging up. 

Lúcio got up from his spot, feeling guilty that he wasn't honest about his recent encounter with a certain mercenary. He didn't want to worry her. He didn't want to make her think he is in danger. 

Now let him ask that question again. Is he in danger? Is Reaper just fucking around with him? Why lose so many opportunities to take him out? He turns around, looking back to expect to find the mercenary hidden in some alleyway. To his surprise, he couldn't detect him. Either he found a good hiding spot or he isn't here. Disappointment brushed by his mind.

“I'm so fucked up…” He whispers to himself, knowing now is a time to return to his hotel.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Lúcio stood in front of the bathroom mirror questioning his current actions. He’s been in the bathroom for a whole half hour and doing what? Drying up his dreads and actually debating what to wear to sleep. How stupid does that sound? He can sleep naked for all he cares. Nobody waste time on deciding what to wear before going to sleep. That is unless one is expecting someone.

Is he? Is he really expecting Reaper to return after last night? The thought send shivers down his spine. A sense of guilt hits him, guilt over how the fear itself seems to be a good turn on for him. He sighs, slipping on a neon green boxers and a black tank top. “You look average” His brain chanted. He scoffs at himself, wondering if he should tie up his dreads or leave them loose.

“You are preparing to see a murderer for god’s sake!!” The other side of his conscience screamed at him. Walking out of the bathroom he proceeds with his desperate pacing, not sure how to organize his thoughts. They were a mess. They were contradicting one another. His brain is about to explode.

The repeating cricket-like whistling pulls him out of the mental mess. He goes towards the balcony to listen to the noise and watches the view of the ocean. He slides the balcony door open a few centimeters, allowing the beautiful sound to be clear. Multiple whistling sounds filled the plants. It was like a chant. His crew claimed they were crickets singing. Others thought they were birds. Lúcio later proved to them those were all tiny tree frogs native to this island: the coqui tree frog.

Coqui. Such a cute name really. He remembers seeing one face to face yesterday. He was tempted to reach out to the tiny as fuck creature but decided to respect its privacy under the leaf. 

His spine shivered, his skin feeling a cold breeze pass over him. His mind went into full alert, already knowing what’s coming next. He closes the balcony door shut, locking it in the process. Looking back at the glass, his eyes register his reflection. There he is as expected, along with another masked man who stood right behind him. It was like watching a ghost.

He leans close to Lúcio, his chest pressing against his back. Clawed hands go to tease at the DJ’s neck, the tip brushing over the flesh. The sensation made Lúcio quiver much to Reaper’s enjoyment. “What is it with you and frogs?”

“What is it with you and skulls?”

“Touche.” Reaper halts with his touching, almost insulted by the question. “Saw you on television this morning.” 

Lúcio plays along again with his calm facade. He turns his head a few degrees to at least catch a glimpse of the Reaper. “Oh?”

“You’re Spanish is horrible.” Reaper bluntness has no mercy.

“Everyone’s a critic.” Lúcio pursed his lips. “Here to finish the job officially?”

The mercenary groans. "Which of them?"

"Doesn't Talon want my head or something?" He whispered, eyes looking down at the gloved hand. A feeling formed in the back of his mind, a strange want for that hand to go around his neck. 

"I never once said they did." 

Lúcio couldn’t believe it. “Then what is all this for?” He looks straight at the crimson red eyes that glowed from behind the mask. “...Do you really…?” 

Reaper groaned, separating from the DJ and take a seat against the edge of the bed. His leather covered fingers rubbed under his chin, trying to organize his words. He too can't believe himself that he is back. "There is just something about you. Something that just can't get off my mind. It's your energy, your will and desire. That look on your face when you fight. That is the face of a man that doesn't give up easily. I know from first hand experience." Reaper's shoulders slump, eyes gazing to another direction away from the youth's eyes. Looking back is just tempting.

Lúcio could guess his next words. From the very beginning he thought Reaper had a mission to assassinate him but now he sees that all of that was just a facade to get close to him, to study him. It was obvious he didn't plan any sort of make out session. 

That was all Lúcio. His deep dark secret is he has seduced his way out of danger before. He has wooed men and women who were supposedly his enemies and used that as a method to escape. "So you heard I was going to be here and just flew to this island?"

Reaper huffed, tempted to remove his mask but hesitates, fingers going back down to the surface of the bed. "No. I was here before I found out. It wasn't until I found your posters plastered everywhere." 

Lúcio walked near the glass door which revealed the view of the beach. Small constant waves splashed over the rocks, the sound giving the scenario a peaceful vibe. He unlocks the balcony door, opening it by an inch just to let the therapeutic sound slip in, including the music of the tree frogs. “So, no mission here with Widowmaker?”

"I came on my own accord, you nosey k-" He hesitates, watching a piercing glare from Lúcio. "Punk." Lúcio can work with that. 

"Here? To this island? Strange choice to visit for a man like you. Unless... Are you Puertorican?"

"No. My family is from somewhere else. Same language but different dialect. Here is way too different. But my grandmother from my mom's side..." He pauses. "She was from here."

Lúcio chuckles, crossed arms parting. "I had a cousin who was born here. He wouldn't stop rambling on how he wanted me to visit this place. He would talk about the food, the beaches and his town. He wasn't kidding.”

"Sounds like that guy will have a ball when he sees you."

"He would have. He would... " Lúcio leaned his head against the glass of the door, eyes following the waves. His tone turned low and soft along with a sense of melancholy. Just by that study in tone and gesture, Reaper got the idea. “He isn't around?”

Lúcio mumbles a sentence in Portuguese. All Reaper could decipher is “car accident”. Something tugged within his chest, a sense of worry that the DJ is upset.

Wait, is Reaper feeling concerned? Him? He refused to let himself believe that. But look at him now. He is conversing with the enemy like if they were out having coffee. 

Yesterday's encounter repeated like a broken record. Reaper couldn't forget the view, the sensation of Lúcio’s lips against his, the lewd noises he made by the mercenary's teasing. Just the idea of having him fully under his control. 

He wants to feel that again.

A smokey black tendril slithers over the ground,unsubtly going towards Lúcio’s direction. The tip of the tendril rises and makes contact with his cheek, guiding his head to turn back to Reaper’s direction.

He didn't flinch when seeing the tendril or when Reaper walked towards him. The Reaper's hands are occupied pushing his hood away and unbuckling his skull mask. Once the a click is heard, he removes the mask in a slow pace, as if concerned to make a shocking reveal.

What shock? Lúcio has already seen that face a handful of times.

Still to his surprise there was something about Reaper that was different. The gap on his cheek is gone, replaced with dried flesh. It was like he regenerated to a point. His face did carry the impression of a dead corpse, only with mild degrading skin. Is that a beard and mustache he detects? Lúcio swore he felt a sense of attraction to that. "You look a lot better than before."

Reaper grumbled, rolling his red eyes. "My cells rapidly degrade and regenerate. Don't get used to it." He said, now inches away from the short man.

Lúcio's casual nodding seem to irritate the Reaper, just not as much as before. The gloved hands touch the DJ's cheeks making him gaze up towards to enemy. It was like he wanted to force the fact that he was an intimidating figure to the freedom fighter. 

But Lúcio knows that the more you know the enemy, the less intimidating they seem. Still, he enjoyed the small amount of fear flowing in his chest. It is a nice sense of thrill. The taloned thumb presses with care over Lúcio's bottom lip, taking its time with a small massage just to admire the sweet softness.

Lúcio gives a little distance between them, pinned by the wall from behind. Reaper follows, slamming both his hands on the wall, keeping Lúcio's head trapped between the arms. "So... What can those tendrils do?" Lúcio regrets asking.

Awkward question. Reaper didn't answer. He instead smirked, hands going south, slipping under the fabric of Lúcio's tank top. The cold gloves sent a shiver down the youth's spine. Both hands rested over his chest, claws poking carefully at his skin. 

The leather fabric brushes over his nipples, a whimpering moan slipping out. Music to the mercenary's ear. He could feel one of the nipples harden under his touch. Lúcio’s hand grab on to Reaper’s hips, fingers gripping onto the leather trench coat. His face flushed more, hands admiring the wideness of those hips. 

"Just let me kiss you again..." There was a tone of begging in that whisper. "...Please." 

He asked for permission. That is a good sign. Having the assassin stand this close to him didn't give him as much fear as he felt the first time they met. Lúcio gives a nod of approval, watching Reaper’s shit eating smirk form.

Reaper took charge in their kiss, one arm going behind Lúcio's back to pull him closer, not wanting this moment to get interrupted by anything. He didn't mind the fact that Lúcio's short stature made him hunch over. It only made the feeling of control more enticing. Cold chapped lips horribly contrasted with the soft warmness that is Lúcio's. Sharp teeth nibble at the plump bottom lip, giving a tug and hearing the whimpering exhale coming from the younger man. It just made Reaper's spine tingle, including his crotch.

Parting from the kiss, Reaper’s lips were replaced by two fingers, exploring the wet cavern of the DJ's mouth. Lúcio played along, tenderly suckling at the fingers, flicking his tongue on the tip of the claws. Looking up at the haunted man, his face softened, adding a forced yet sensual moan for teasing. 

Reaper's available hand goes south, feeling the perfect bulgy shape of his prey's crotch. He didn't hold back in palming the hidden cock, enjoying Lúcio’s breathing hitch. "For a short guy you're pretty big down there." 

Those words send a fluttering sensation down from Lúcio's abdomen to his groin, hardness increasing to the max. Reaper indulges feeling that cock twitch.

"Th....thanks." Lúcio mumbled, hands trying to work on the leather suit of his enemy. His fingers desperately searched for buttons or at least a zipper. To Lúcio it seemed unfair that Reaper was doing all the work. 

"Don't." The mercenary ordered his voice seething. He absorbed at the sight, watching the celebrity struggle in holding back anymore lewd noises. That still didn’t stop Lúcio from searching for a way to undress the tall man. "Or do you want to be punished with my boot on your crotch again?"

Lúcio lips curved as he quivered, biting his bottom lip. "Don't tempt me-" Reaper's lips cut him off again, continuing with the long lustful kiss. He removes his hand from the DJ’s groin, arms keeping him still. Lúcio places his leg over Reaper's hips, wanting to feel more of the slow friction over his groin. He rolled his hips to help out, his arms going around Reaper's neck to secure his balance. 

"Can I tie your arms?”

Lúcio stops with his little kissing attempts, looking up at Reaper quite surprised. Kinky yet kind. His grin proved that the question is indeed a turn on for the youth. Nodding, he waited for the gloved hands to pull out a rope but got a sweet surprise. Black tendrils seeped from under his trenchcoat, going behind Lúcio circling around his arms to keep them bound. They weren't too tight and they lacked the roughness of rope. Lúcio is content with it as he rested his back against the wall. He smirks, wanting to tease the Reaper. He loved hearing that annoyed groan.

Reaper tried to maintain a cool appearance but just watching that shit eating face gets him flustered and just downright annoyed. Lúcio thought it was a perfect sight to watch. He could just caress that face, if it weren’t for his bound arms. He makes the next move, nuzzling the tall man's nose, kissing his jaw. He was practically on the tip of his toes to reach him.

“I might have to sit on you just so you’d stay still.”

“Heeeey, being sat by those luscious thighs of yours sounds like pure heaven.” He bit his lips with a smile, arms giving a momentary struggle for show. Still he wants to sink those fingers at the leather covered thighs of the mercenary. “Just to grab, squeeze and kiss them.”

"Those thighs can also kill." Reaper threatens, clawed gloves caressing the back of Lúcio's neck. The coldness of the material made the DJ quiver, legs going weak. Lúcio goes back to the wall, sliding down as his knees gave in.

Reaper didn’t allow him to falter. He grabs Lúcio by the arm and pulls him back up again. Fingers returned to play with Lúcio’s lips, hips pressing hard against his to keep him standing. Reaper stood there, as if indecisive on what to do next. 

Now both hands go to grab the DJ’s sweet ass, giving a strong squeeze and getting a hiss as a response. With that he hoisted Lúcio up, pinning him again. When the DJ got the message, he wrapped both his legs around Reaper’s hips. The mercenary pressed his groin harder, making both their hidden cocks throb. Lúcio huffed, trying to maintain himself but his hips shifted hard against Reaper, needing more pressure.

Lúcio gives another struggle just for show, his arms feeling a tingle of numbness for being tied and pinned behind his back. Reaper makes his next move, hips shifting and grinding against Lúcio’s, hands gripping at his thighs. He leans his face at the sweet neck, inhaling the aroma of his living prey, trying to suppress a growl. “You smell fucking delicious.”

Lúcio wasn't helping with his whimpering. The pressure of their hidden cocks, the feeling of breathing on his neck, the sound of fabric and leather rubbing against one another and his bound arms. They left him feel like unresponsive goo. Reaper is the reason he doesn't just drop to the floor and faint. “I can just eat you up?”

“Literally?” He heard the stories, on how this man leaves his corpse drained from all life, their faces left showing pure horror. His heart skipped a beat; the idea that it could be him is scary enough. Yet, the fear is making their lewd moment more enticing. 

Reaper sinks his teeth over the musicians flesh, enjoying the pained yelp. Lúcio knows he was definitely bruised. After the bite he teased the wound with his tongue as if to soothe it ever so slowly. The pain still made Lúcio flinch, mouth hanging open and moans slip out.

“Pity you have to heal this later. It is nice for you to keep it.” 

“P….my p.r.”

“Fuck your P.R.” Reaper whispers, breathing into Lúcio’s ears. He gives a hard shift, clawed gloves now attempting to sneak under the fabric of Lúcio’s boxers behind him. The tip of the claws made contact with the soft flesh. 

Lúcio's neck arched back, mouth hanging open begging for more. He feels the tip of the claw be a tease, touching tenderly at his entrance. Reaper didn't slip a finger inside. He simply massaged his hole with care. Lúcio was in frenzy by it. Is he thinking about going in? Does he want to go this far?

Lube. The lube is in his suitcase. He should remind him that. He knows they are close in doing some real fucking. He can tell with Reaper’s dry humping picking up; his breathing and growling turning louder and erratic. His head leaned over Lúcio’s neck, his body crushing Lúcio more against the wall to the point of discomfort.

"Do... You want to be in me?" He whispered to the mercenary. Hearing those words, Reaper's body halts his shifting and starts to shudder, seething growls slipping from his lips. He pressed his throbbing crotch hard against Lúcio, eyes almost rolling back. His face gave that undeniable look when one reaches that point of pleasure.

One last groan and his body relaxed, head resting over Lúcio's shoulder again licking the bite mark tenderly. Lúcio looks at Reaper from bottom to top, almost not believing the sight.

Did he just cum in his pants?

Lúcio wasn't sure what to make of this. At first, the sight of seeing the mercenary orgasm just with friction was enticing. The way Reaper quivered the feeling of his dick twitch continuously when he reached his climax; it was amazing for the D.J. 

But his smile soon faded. Then the thought of Reaper doing another disappearing act came, leaving Lúcio hanging, unfinished. He can get why orgasm denial is a hot kink but it is only fun every once in awhile.

But Reaper stayed still, letting his energy return. Looking back at the DJ with tired eyes, he licks his own chapped lips as if eager for something...

"Meu Deus..."

"Took the words out of my mouth." He smirked, parting Lúcio from the wall and carrying him towards the bed. To tease, he drops him over the soft mattress, short body bouncing once. Reaper indulged in the angered growl he received from the youth. Tendrils letting go of his arms, retracting back to Reaper. Lúcio rubbed his wrists from the soreness, not sure what's coming next.

Reaper splits Lúcio's legs apart, taloned fingers with a tight grip on his thighs, head going straight to the crotch. Being a tease, he presses his lips and nose against the clothed bulge, already hearing the gasping and cries a man that so desperate to reach his climax. 

"How to stop a DJ 101: kiss that crotch and you have him under your full control." He whispered, kissing where the head of the cock is located. The thighs tremble under his hands. Lúcio’s toes curled while hips shifted desperate for more physical contact. His hands automatically go to Reaper's scalp feeling the small curls of his hair. He just wants to sit on this man and have his cock stuffed inside his mouth. 

That thought sounded extreme to Lúcio. Maybe that wasn't Reaper’s taste.

The mercenary wasn't going to have any of Lúcio’s dominant side. With a wave of a hand, black tendrils again tie over Lúcio's wrist, pulling them over his head. Another set wraps over each thigh, pulling them apart to give Reaper space. The end of each tendril would caress with care, massaging over his thighs, too close for comfort towards his crotch.

Finally his gloved fingers hook over the elastic, pulling it down enough just to let the DJ's cock spring free. Lúcio shudders, feeling the cold air breeze pass the sensitive flesh, toes curling even more. Reaper watches at awe at the hardness leaning to the side, tip glazed with a bead of pre-cum. For a man his height, the length is thicker than expected. Reaper couldn't hold back another lick on the lips enjoying the sound of relief and shivers of the young man. 

Lúcio looks at his eyes, wondering if the staring is due to something being wrong with his dick. "What?”

"It’s just bigger than I expected." He whispers, using his hands to shield the hardened dick from the cold breeze.

The musician sighs, body relaxing while his face flushed.. "Size doesn't matter. Its how you use-uu-aaaaa-HAAAAAA HOLY SHIT!!!!" There was Reaper without a single trace of hesitation takes Lúcio's length fully, deep throating with an insatiable thirst. He first did not move, indulging at the wailing noises and then proceeds to brush his tongue under the length, bobbing his head. 

That strange mixture of warmth and cold coming from the cavern that is Reaper’s mouth; Lúcio didn't know how such feeling is even possible. He struggles in his bindings, hips shifting at the Reaper's mouth. The mercenary got annoyed; arms helping the tendrils keep his thighs still, continuing with the agonizing blow job.

Reaper decides on a little vanilla torture. Opening his mouth wide, his sharp teeth with care grazing ever so slowly over the shaft. One hand goes lower, fondling Lúcio’s testicles.. A slew of words slipped out of the DJ’s mouth in Portuguese. Reaper understood a percentage, enjoying how vulgar his words got.

Lúcio’s legs shook, body squirming as much as the tendrils let him. He didn't want to escape, but just the idea, the struggle in the attempt to free himself from such binding brought more thrill him. He wants to give an impression that he fears the Reaper, but he couldn't. He embraced everything that is happening. Never has someone given him oral, not like this. His previous partners would request he would do it. He didn't mind though.

He stopped thinking clearly wailing and trembled over every single touch Reaper did. The mercenary would pull out and then deep throat the hell out of the cock. A definite trace he has done this before. This is pure experience. Reaper definitely had many opportunities to practice. 

Reaper focuses now on the head of the cock, suckling it like a piece of candy, watching Lúcio’s sweet built abdomen clench. Regrettably, he pulls away from the delicious length. Even death needs to catch a breather. His fingers still tinkered with the testicles, head going now for his thighs.

Lúcio groans desperate for his dick to feel more. It was getting to the point of irritation while feeling the tender pecks over his thighs. Still he wished it was him who was doing that to Reaper thighs. Those thighs overshadowed his. He just wants to squeeze those hands at them. He wants to mark it himself. He wants to grab that sweet ass hidden in leather.

Reaper made a show revealing his sharp pearly whites. Although not long, it gave Lúcio the image of a beast smiling at him. 

What a nice (scary) smile.

The sharp teeth made tender contact over the skin of Lúcio’s inner thighs. He teased, nibbled making sure he left at least a minor bruise over the skin. He wants to go all out and bite, make the dear thigh bleed but held back. The youth’s reaction is enough to make him indulge. He moves to the other thigh, giving it the same treatment, eyes watching Lúcio’s face darken even more. He knows the fact Lúcio wants his dear cock to be sucked again. He wasn't going to give him that pleasure yet.

Lúcio shifted his hips, this time on purpose just to gesture at Reaper to continue where he left off. Reaper ignores it, resting his head feeling comfort over Lúcio’s left thigh. “I could sleep like this.”

Lúcio eyes widen, teeth clenching as his patience was now gone. "If you leave me hanging again I swear I'll rip your head off…” 

Reaper halted his movement, taken completely aback by Lúcio's words. Did the sweet freedom fighter just threatened him. That was hot.

Reaper decided to oblige him, taking his cock fully in his mouth and deep throating it. Lúcio let out a yelp, feeling Reaper use his throat to tease the tip. Does this man have no gag reflex?! Reaper’s lips go back and forth over the shaft with an intense speed, looking up at Lúcio watching his body tremble and spasm. His loose dreads bounced over his shoulders, his wrists bruising little by little due to the tendrils grip. His chest heaved, his whole body covered in a layer of sweat. He didn't hold back his mouth, spewing every vulgar comment he could think of in Portuguese.

Both gloved hands hover over Lúcio’s abdomen, mouth not leaving his dick still resuming with its movements. The tip of the claws tenderly poking his skin, purposely overwhelming his prey in sensation. Pulling away from the cock, Reaper lifts up Lúcio’s tank top, claws grazing over over his chest, brushing ever so slightly over Lúcio’s hardened nipple. The DJ was babbling, begging. He couldn’t wait anymore. He needed to get off so badly. 

Reaper smirks, adjusting his position so his face was over the musician’s chest, tongue brushing over his hardened nub. His hand goes south, gripping at the shaft with no mercy, intending to send a sensation of minor pain. Before Lúcio protested, that is when death went all out on stroking. It was instant, abrupt switching to full on aggressive pumping. Reaper switches to the other nipple, his speed not faltering while enjoys Lúcio’s body tremble underneath him. Having him trapped, just having him in this position filled Reaper with pure euphoria. He just wants the musician all to himself.

Lúcio’s moaning pitches rose, eyes rolling back. He tries to speak out a sentence, but it was just a incoherent mess of English and Portuguese. “Don’t hold back…” Reaper whispers, hands still working on the shaft, thumb rubbing hard over the tip.

His fingers felt Lúcio’s dick twitch while his ears absorbed the sound of Lúcio reaching his hard earned orgasm. The whimpering, the rising pitch of his gasps, the lewd moans. Reaper realized it was getting too loud for comfort. He muffles the musician’s mouth to control the volume, giving him an open mouth kiss at his neck. 

Lúcio’s body arched, his torso and legs tremble while ejaculating. Reaper continued to stroke the cock, not minding the mess the musician just made while feeling the dick still make ejaculating motions. He watches Lúcio’s body go limp, panting while his body glistened in a layer of sweat. Reaper removes his hand from his prey’s mouth. The tendrils slowly loosened, lowering his arms and legs back on the bed with care. Lúcio’s chest heaved, forcing one hand to rub his wrist, feeling the tender soreness.

He watches Reaper walk to the bathroom, picking up a damp cloth to clean up the minor mess Lúcio made on his suit. Thanks to the leather material, it didn’t take long. Lúcio stayed in his bed, body trying to regain its energy back little by little, expecting for Reaper to do another disappearing act. His ears pick up the sound of the singing frogs, letting himself be entranced by it. 

The side of the bed sunk. Lúcio finding Reaper’s arm going over his torso to pull him close. He didn’t do anything else except embrace him and rest over the bed. “Those are definitely crickets. They can’t be frogs.” Reaper mumbled, kissing the back of his neck.

“Google em. They are frogs.”

“Wanna bet?”

“It’s the most iconic thing in the whole island. It’s in their post cards, souvenirs. Of course it has to be that.” Lúcio groaned in annoyance, getting really defensive over a breed for frogs. He stays still, feeling Reaper kiss his cheek and ear. “Since when were you interested in me?”

“Since that day you saw my face. You were shocked yet you didn't scream. I always questioned why."

"Maybe fear for my life overpowered that." Lúcio admits, remaining still and enjoyed the embrace. Reaper looks at him, fingers teasing the tip of Lúcio’s dreads. The logic in the musical’s brain kicked in, repeating to him over and over what he just did. He slept with an enemy. Well, almost slept. But this has gone overboard. 

And now look at him, tenderly embracing him and nuzzling his hair. That is so sweet it can cause diabetes. Lúcio looks back at Reaper then back to the balcony, gazing at the moonlight bathing over the beach. 

Now that he was off his sexual thrill, more questions filled his brain. Is Reaper lonely? Did he just wanted a two night stand? Is he fucking with him? Trying to get his guard down? Does he want to break Lúcio’s heart? 

Lúcio doubts the last one. It isn't like he thinks this is a relationship. It isn't. It's just two men who had a moment because they were both horny. He still didn't mind the after sex cuddle. But it doesn't change the fact this is a Talon agent. His stomach churned just thinking about it. “Hey, Reaper?”

The bed went light. Waiting for a response, he turns around to find Reaper's spot empty. Black mist snuck through the small gap of the balcony door. Lúcio sighs, resting over his bed while slowly adjusting his boxers. 

Just how the fuck will he explain this to Hana?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you all for your patience/eagerness. This chapter really made me get out of my comfort zone smut wise. 
> 
> Facts:  
> \- This smut took TOO long time to write.  
> \- Coqui tree frogs seem to be endangered in Puerto Rico, but overpopulated in Hawaii. It is also an invasive species in Hawaii.  
> \- Yep, in P.R. we have mountains named after boobs. Google "Las Tetas de Cayey, Puerto Rico".  
> \- The tasty treat Piragua is my crack. I prefer grape syrup flavor. https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/45/1c/12/451c122e128694acdd1f80ad6f9655ed.jpg  
> \- My friends and I made headcanons on how the Omnic Crisis would have affected our island in Overwatch universe.


	3. Death Won't Open Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucio realizes he actually is a target for Talon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another fic I wrote while the passing of Hurricane Maria? Why so much writing? Well its my coping mechanism while my country is in a national crisis. Apologies for mistakes. This is all written in my phone. When things smooth over I will fix up the mistakes! Also apologies for long wait for this fic!

Morning came. Despite Lúcio’s “hook up” doing another one of his disappearing acts, he felt satisfied. That sounds a tad heartless but casual sex isn’t uncommon for the DJ. Still, he didn’t deny that a part of him wanted Reaper to stay. A part of him wanted to continue conversing with Reaper, to get to know him and to find out what he is secretly plotting. As cute as it sounds, Reaper being just interested in him sounds to vague and makes Lúcio 100% skeptical. 

He gets up from his bed, the first thing he did was get into the shower and relieve himself. He relaxes when feeling the water droplets hit his shoulder and back. He leans against the wall, making sure not to slip while his hands carress his shaft. He sighs, biting his bottom lip letting the memories of last night arouse him. 

What else is Reaper into? Is he into the idea of doing oral while Lucio sleep? Kinky. Just the idea of waking up with his thighs restrained, with his dick deep inside his lover’s mouth makes him whimper. His strokes picking up the pace while his thumb teases the cock head, pressing against the slit. 

He presses his lips tight shut, his imagination taking full control. The image of Reaper taking in his dick while he slept. The moans grow louder the harder he sucks. Those thoughts were enough to send him over the edge. He gives a low grunt, releasing into his palm. His cum was washed off from his hand by the shower, circling around the drain. 

Short but enjoyable. Lucio finishes up with his shower and dries up. Leaving the bathroom, he switches on his healing music at low volume while searching for clothes in his luggage. He glances at the phone, noticing a flashing red light. When he unlocks the screen, an unexpected caller ID made him raise an eyebrow.

Missed Call: Satya Vaswani

Symmetra? Why did she of all people called him? He put his phone down and stared at the wall, absorbing the fact that his nemesis of all people attempted to communicate with him. “Must be wrong phone number.” 

Not trusting Symmetra is an understatement. Despite her working as a double agent against Vishkar, Lúcio is still a skeptic. He always is. She was someone that believed heavily of Vishkar’s ideals. 

Hana on the other hand wanted to give her a chance. She was the first to befriend the architect. Whenever she’d have the chance, she’d go to Lúcio and tell him Symmetra isn’t as bad as he sees her. She tried to explain how Symmetra’s whole life was nothing but Vishkar so even turning against them had to be the most difficult task she ever did.

Lúcio remembers when he saw Symmetra sitting alone in the mess hall of the watchpoint, reading through her tablet all the information and evidence acquired on Vishkar’s secret agenda. Her expression showed she was crushed, overwhelmed and confused. She looked like she was on the verge of crying. Something pulled Lúcio’s heart strings. He didn’t say anything. All he left was a tissue box next to her.

The life in Vishkar was all she knew. That is what he’s been told. He can’t imagine how it feels like to realize your life is a lie and that your actions that you thought were good turned out they arent so great. 

Just seeing that, Lúcio toned down his hostility towards her. This didn't make them friends at all. He just decided to give her less of a hard time by not confronting or picking a discussion with her.

Remembering all of that made him reconsider. He’ll call her back after breakfast. He glances back at the balcony of his hotel room, mentally hoping he would catch any sign related to Reaper. 

He goes to a nearby coffee shop, only a few blocks away from the hotel. He walked out wearing a tank top that came with his own hoodie. Adding vintage sunglasses and it is a pretty decent disguise to walk around in public. 

After making his order, he sat on one corner of the restaurant, away from the window so no one would easily recognize him. Munching on his breakfast, a ham and cheese sandwhich with sweet golden yellow bread (or as they call it Pan de Media Noche) and a bowl of oatmeal, he stares at his phone, browsing through his agenda and social media.

He gets interrupted by a call, ID again revealing its Symmetra. He hesitates in answering, unsure why she is even trying to contact me. Despite all that, his thumb hits the answer botton, slipping on his earbuds. The screen changes to a video image of Symmetra, facing the camera with her casual serious look. 

“Correia dos Santos.” 

“Vaswani.” That is some greeting. Then again, look who’s talking.

“Are you alone?” She asks.

“Alone as in not with a date at the moment? Yes. Alone as in not surrounded by strangers? Uh, no.” He is trying to not sound snarky but its hard.

“I see your location is in the caribbeans. Correct?” 

“Yeah, Puerto Rico. U.S. Territory. Is part of the U.S.A. Still they cant vote for a president.” He rambles on.

“So I heard.” Her hands were occupied working with a computer. “Allow me to make this brief. I am here to warn you to be on your guard.” 

“Oh… uh… Thanks for the consideration.” He soon realizes he may have sounded sarcastic.

She looks behind her back as if to assure she isnt being watch. “I mean it. I uncovered information from Vishkar about a plan involving you. It was very vague, but the terrorist organization known as Talon might be connected to it.” 

That interrupted his sandwhich moment, putting his food back on his plate. “Talon?”

“I believe they want to capture you. Have you noticed any strange events? Have you witnessed anything suspicious?” Her voice changes to a whisper.

All of Reaper’s visits. 

“Nah, nothing.” Lúcio lied. 

“I shall report this to Overwatch as soon as I can. Be on your guard.” She warned.

“Uh… okay.” He doesnt know how to respond to this. The last thing he expected was for her to show concern for his wellbeing. “Vaswani?” 

“Yes?” 

“Thank you. You watch yourself too.” He can only imagine the dangers she put herself to get this information. She gives a short nod before ending the call. He puts his phone back down at the table, unsure how to take her message. The last thing he wants is to cancel his concert because of a possibility. Yet he doesnt want to endanger his fans. 

This never gets easy.

-o-o-o-o-o-

“So you can’t fully confirm this warning?” Martim asked, already having his blood pressure through the roof while preparing for this concert. Lúcio sighs and stares at the mirror of his dressing room, placing the clips on the bottom of his dreadlocks. 

“Not really…?” He squints at his response, catching Martim’s glare from the reflection of the mirror. 

“Its a good thing I doubled the bodyguards.” He adds, taking a few more notes in his tablet. Lúcio didn’t say much after the response. He already knew he was only increasing the stress to his crew. Ever since he started his touring, he noticed how the amount of bodyguards increased throughout time. After all, he is what they call a “controversial figure”. 

Getting himself ready, making sure his dreads are neat and his outfit in place, he took a deep breath and took one last look in front of the mirror. “Let’s do this.”

As expected, the concert was another hit much to Martim’s surprise. Lúcio faced his audience one last time before going backstage, raising his hand up to give the “peace” sign, hearing the crowd’s cheers increase. He jumps backstage, feeling the exhaustion hit him. The crew do their job in attending him, passing him a towel to clean off his sweat and a water bottle to refresh himself. 

“Go ahead and say it.” Martim rolled his eyes, already detecting a smirk from the DJ.

“The test was worth it.” Lúcio mocks him with a wide smile revealing his teeth. He hears his manager groan as he takes a different direction. 

“Get ready. The others will pick you up.” Martin adds before leaving him with the rest of the crew. Lúcio goes to his dressing room, wiping the layer of sweat from his neck and arms. He looked around, expecting to see a hooded visitor. Just to make sure, he even checked the closet. Nothing. Lúcio frowned. But why fret? Perhaps he will meet him in the hotel room. Still, after Symmetra’s warnings, Lúcio will have to skip the idea of “relieving stress” and go straight to interrogating Reaper. 

The door knocks. One bodyguard reminds him that the van is ready. Lúcio is escorted to the backseat of a black van, driving off the stadium with two bodyguards sitting between him. He would have prefered to be near the window and watch the sight of the city. It’s tradition he takes one last look of the country he is touring before he leaves to his next plane. More when its night time.He looks at his bodyguard on the left, recieving an odd glare. 

“So… how long did you had this job?” He is the type to do small talk. It’s too awkward to stay quiet among his workmates. He is a sociable guy after all. Yet he got no response from either side. He fusses, visibly offended yet they paid no mind to him.

His phone buzzes on the pocket of his cargo pants. Pulling it out, he raises his eyebrow, seeing its Martim. Maybe he’s calling just to say he’ll be late at the hotel. He swipes the answer button. “Lúcio here.” 

“WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!” He jolts, rubbing his ears while wincing. Never has Lúcio ever heard him scream in his life. “CORREIA DOS SANTOS, IF THIS IS ANOTHER DISAPPEARING ACT-” 

“What?! They’re driving me to the hotel!” Lúcio was tired, irritated. He didn’t need another lecture from his “boss”. The bodyguard on the right makes a signal to the driver.

“BY WHO?! THE BODYGUARDS LOST TRACK OF YOU! YOU NEVER MADE IT TO THE VAN.” Martim yelled.

Lúcio goes rigid, hand still holding on to the phone in his ear. His fingers snuck to a button located behind his phone, pressing it. He eyes at the men on his left and right. Their gaze remain at the road, an unfamiliar one at that. 

“Lúcio…” Martin paused, dreading the answer. “Where are you?” 

Lúcio chuckles, forcing himself to hold back any urge to panic. “You know, we need to talk about your car options here. I told you I hated any vans related to Nissan’s. Also, black? Really? Fuck that shit.” His eyes took one glance of a street sign, catching a number.

It was no use. The “bodyguards” caught on, one grabbing his wrist making him drop his phone. “HIGHWAY 22 HEADING WEST!!” He screams as loud as he could to the phone on the floor. His attackers grabbing both of his arms, cuffing them with ease. He still didn’t give up without a fight, swinging his legs sending a hard kick at one of his kidnapper’s jaws.

Still the second kidnapper didn’t falter, grabbing his legs and trapping them also with another set of metal cuffs. Lúcio struggles and squirms, slamming the back of his head at the man’s jaw behind him. They were bigger and stronger than him, taking the opportunity to gag his mouth, muffling his screams.

To make him stay still and quiet, one give him a swift punch on his face, making him faulter and stop resisting. He groans at the pain, head throbbing and mouth aching, unable to concentrate. Both had one hand over his shoulders to keep him still, ignoring the muffled profanity Lúcio spilled out.

One pulls out a phone, dialing a number. “We got the rebel.” He awaits for a response and nods. “Right. We’ll head to the airship soon.” 

Airship?!

The other man growls. “I thought that reaper guy was supposed to be the best. Yet he slacked off. Can you believe it?” 

Before Lúcio could absorb that sentence, the car made an abrupt turn, the driver letting out a panic yelp as he regains control of the steering wheel. The car turns to the side of the road, stopping. Lúcio tries to look up to see why they stopped in the middle of nowhere in the first place, but he was forced to hunch over with a harsh push, unable to view the windows.

“Why are you stopping?!”

“I swear I saw something!! Like a ghost!”

All three men step out of the van. Lúcio could hear guns cocking and muttering. He sees the door wide open, an opportunity to escape but is foiled by the metal cuffs on his arms and legs. He struggles, having the false hope that maybe his wrists would slip of them. He growls through the cloth. No such luck. They are tight.

The sound of gunshots caught him offguard. Out of defense he drops his body on the floor of the car, keeping his head down as the gunfight resumed. His body flinches at every bullet noise, praying none hits him. Then came silence.

Heavy leather boots catches his ears, raising his head up to find a familiar face, or more like a familiar mask. 

“You alright?” There was Reaper, putting his shotgun away under his trenchcoat as he reaches and scoops Lúcio out of the car, carrying him with both of his arms bridal style. He walks by the corpses of Lúcio’s kidnappers, the streetlights exposing the bulletholes all over the bodies. It sent a hard shiver down Lúcio’s spine, reminding him this man who aided him is dangerous. He looks up at Reaper, mumbling an incoherent sentence through his gag. 

“Oh.” Reaper got the message, pulling down the gag letting Lúcio finally be able to breath clearly. “Sorry.”

“Thanks.” Lúcio pants. “What? Did I look hot all tied up?” He teased, hearing an annoyed sigh from the mercenary. 

“Were you planning on seducing your kidnappers?”

“They didn’t let me.” Lúcio pouts. 

“The police are on their way.” Reaper adds, already hearing the sirens miles away. 

Lucio looked up to Reaper, debating on whether to bring up the subject of what Symmetra told him. It doesn’t help matters that now this happened, that now there was a failed kidnapping. “You lied.” Lúcio whispers.

“What?”

“You had a mission that involved me, didn’t you? You had orders. You were supposed to capture me.” Lúcio asked, maming his tone serious.

Reaper rolled his eyes, not in a mood for a confrontation. He kneels to the floor and puts Lucio down. “I said I wasn’t sent to kill you.” He proceeded in breaking the metal cuffs both on his legs and arms like if it was nothing.

Lucio rolls his eyes. “Reaper. That isn’t an answer.” 

He gets back on his feet, looking down at Lúcio. Due to that mask, Lúcio couldn’t read him. Not one bit. He rubs at his wrists, wincing in pain as he stands on his legs. Reaper doesn’t answer. He just stares down at Lucio, clawed gloves tenderly grazing over his cheeks. 

Lucio sighed, the touch causing a chill to go down his spine. Reaper carresses Lucio’s jaw, guiding him to make eye contact. “I’ve fallen for your trap.”

“What…?

“This was supposed to be a one night stand. I’d get your guard down so I’d take you. Yet I couldn’t. You made me get my guard down. You manipulated me to avoid what you thought was death.” Reaper whispers, clawed thumb passing over Lucio’s soft bottom lip. “And now I unexpectedly developed feelings for you.”

“Oh shit…” Lucio muttered, unsure how to react to this. That makes them both on the same boat. 

“Here I am, saving you from the people who gave me the clear orders to take you.” Reaper turns back, looking back at the bodies of the former Talon agents.

“Then tell me. What does Talon want with me?” Lucio urges for an answer, getting tired of Reaper’s play on avoiding the real question. His brown eyes were sharp, glaring at the masked man.

Reaper takes one step back, eyes never leaving Lucio’s while the breeze brushed by him. He lets himself fade into mist, allowing to be carried by the cold night wind. Lucio tries to chase the mist but it moves too fast, disappearing into the darkness of the night sky.

“YOU CAN’T JUST DISAPPEAR AND AVOID A SUBJECT!!” He yells on the top of his lungs, ears catching the noise of police sirens.


	4. Death Confess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reaper reveals Talon's plan. Lúcio won't take shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another rare update! I do apologize for the long wait. Good news is that my part of town has improved post hurricane though many of the island is still having a slow AF recovery. Though I am slow in updating I promise this isn't a hiatus! Hopefully I will have the next chapter up soon. I had a lot of fun writing this part. Enjoy!

It didn’t take long for the news to spread all over the world through. It also didn’t take long for security to increase. The hotel is now surrounded by security and police forces until Lúcio leaves the country.

Reaper didn't know what he was doing. He watches the hotel from a safe distance, standing on a thick branch of a tree. His eyes are solely focused on the little light shining from one of the hotel room balconies of the tenth floor.

An odd beat in his chest emerged, a familiar and nostalgic one. It begged to go back to Lúcio and officially come clean. Another part just wants to get his hand under the short man’s pants. He shook his head, scolding himself at the last thought.

He let himself go. He got himself emotionally involved of all things. All because of his damn curiosity. And now he defied Talon’s orders to capture him.

He crouches down on the branch, still debating on what to do. The sky gave a low rumble. Looking up, he could see the upcoming storm heading to his direction, covering up the full moon. If that isn't a clear representation of his mind he doesn't know what is.

His eyes stare at that balcony, catching the small detail of Lúcio working with the sliding door. He looks like he has a struggle opening it and then gives up. But Reaper got the message. Lúcio is expecting him.

Reaper decides to act upon his instincts, his body dissolving to mist and making its way to the hotel. He manages to avoid security located at almost every part of the building grounds. He levitated his way to Lúcio’s balcony, finding a tiny opening through the sliding door.

Reaper makes it inside, shifting back to his physical form expecting to find Lúcio resting on his bed. The bed was empty and the room is dark. He raised an eyebrow, confused until the balcony door makes a click. Reaper turns back to find Lúcio behind him, locking the only exit. Lúcio turns around, his expression serious making him almost unrecognizable.

Reaper intended to speak up until his eyes catch Lúcio’s sonic amplifier in his hands, activated and loaded. He freezes, catching a piercing glare from the young man. “[You have a lot if nerve coming here.]” He whispers in Portuguese.

Okay, he is angry.

“I-”

Lúcio stops him, raising his finger. “Oh, you expected you’d get another fuck out of me, eh? Well forget it. You aren't getting near me until you explain what the hell is going on! You know something. It’s clear and if you don't answer…”

“I… Die?” Reaper guesses. But there is no way Lúcio would do something like that.

“You’re already dead.”

Ouch. Wait…

Lúcio aims his sonic amplifier at him. “This thing makes lots of noise and this thing can make you hurt. The hotel is surrounded by security and will come barging in if I trigger this alarm switch.” He reveals the small two inch remote control that has one button. “You wouldn't want that, do you?”

Well shit, he walked himself to a trap. And the frog man is literally threatening him. Reaper has no one else to blame but himself. He underestimated Lúcio, again. He really needs to stop doing that. It is what got him in this predicament in general in the first place. Reaper sighs, crossing his arms.

“You have three seconds.” Lúcio’s fingers grip at the weapon’s handle.

He can't be serious.

“Three. Two.”

Shit!

“Okay! Just don’t shoot! Yes! I was sent by Talon to get you.” Reaper confess in a whisper, but he feels as though he is repeating himself from their last encounter. “Yes, they wanted you alive. Not dead.”

Lúcio lowers his sonic amplifier, surprised he got a response. “Keep talking.” Reaper’s shoulders slump, sighing with relief. “I’m shocked Talon sees me of importance. You think they’d take Morrison or Tracer for interrogation. I guess my friendly nemesis was right about her suspicion.”

“It isn't for interrogation.” Reaper corrects.

Lúcio grips again at the handle of the amplifier but didn’t aim. “Then. What?!” He clenched his teeth, the volume of his voice rising.

Okay. The frog man is mad.

“You are an icon for the world. People cheer for you. People love you. But most important of all, they listen to you. You can influence how society sees things, on how they see Overwatch.” Reaper makes clear.

Lúcio looks down at the carpet floor, biting his lips.“I say to them what I believe is right. It is up to them what they decide to believe it or not. I’m not manipulating them.”

“It doesn’t matter to Talon. They wants you to little by little influence the people to go against Overwatch. Once they lose support, it'll be harder for them to accomplish any mission or goals. They will be at a liability. They will be unable to come to agreements with others who are in need of help.” Reaper hears a low scoff.

“Talon seriously has their head in the clouds thinking I will obey them. I rather chose death. I'm too young to die but… what else can you do?”

Reaper growls. “Death isn't an option, punk. Don't you get it? Not even saying no is an option. It doesn't matter what you’ll decide! They will make you do it! They will indoctrinate the purpose deep within your brain that you will do it with no hesitation! You will lose control and they will have you like a puppet doing their bidding and no one in your little audience will realize that.” He controls his volume, containing himself from raising up the tone of his voice.

Lúcio kept his lips shut, unsure how to take that newfound information. It is all too overwhelming. His heart clenched at the mere thought that the enemy wants him and have the pure intent of brainwashing him just to get a huge percentage of society against Overwatch. The plan is ridiculous. Is it? “How do I know I can trust you? You can just be lying and they only want me dead.”

Reaper leans against the wall. “Good point. But why would I make this up if I can just kill you right now?”

Lúcio raises his eyebrow, unphased by his question. “Are you?”

“No.”

“Oh.” Lúcio hummed, putting down his weapon while staring at the wall. “I will be leaving tomorrow. My friends will escort me out and they might arrive at this hotel any moment. I suggest you leave.”

An aching tug passed by Reaper’s chest. Part of him wishes to stay, to protect him. Part of him would also wish to touch that face and press his thumb over those lips. Wrong time to think of that. “Is that it?”

At first comes a long silence. “I… appreciate your help and honesty but I do believe we are getting too involved. All of this started because I wanted to distract you from what I thought was your real purpose: to kill me. I wasn't expecting to feel for....” He paused, realizing how he was opening himself too much. “I thought it was just horniness. I thought it was just the thrill of getting sexual with a dangerous man like yourself.”

Reaper feels unusually flattered by that. “Thanks.”

“Maybe that is only a percentage. I am feeling this attachment and yet I don't even know you...” Lúcio confesses. “But you know me. There is a lack of balance here.”

This isn't a break up. It shouldn't be. And yet why is Reaper’s chest aching? He walked closer to Lúcio, praying he wouldn't step back. It is not like he has anywhere else to go. He was standing in front of the wall next to the balcony door. Lúcio signs, curiosity getting to him as he reaches for Reaper’s mask to pull it out with care.

Reaper reacts, grabbing Lúcio’s wrist to stop him. “Today I don't look so great.”

Lúcio sigh but gives a sweet smile. “Come on. I don't mind. I guess if we are to officially split its okay to have one more kiss.”

Reaper definitely wants that but he hesitates. He will look better another day but now he barely has any skin. There were no lips to kiss. All one could see is a nightmare and he didn't want Lúcio to witness that. “Reaper, it's okay.”

“I'm not ready. Please.” Reaper whispers with a begging tone. Lúcio took the message and stop insisting, still wishing he could sneak a kiss. He does so, but places it in the surface of his mask. It is something. “But I like listening to you…” Reaper removes his glove, his dark grey calloused hand presses over Lúcio’s bottom lip, admiring the softness.

“Close the curtains.” Lúcio orders.

Reaper follows it, already feeling a chill down his spine. “No cameras here?”

“Outside. Not inside. I still want my privacy.” He sighs, allowing him to resume. Reaper caressing his cheek and resume with the lip massage. Lúcio’s body twitched, feeling the clawed tip of the other gloved hand touch his neck. The claws with care grazed his skin, spine giving a strong shiver.

Lúcio suckles at the thumb with need, wishing instead it was Reaper’s lips. Lightheaded, he leans his body against the wall as lewd images flood his mind. Reaper removes the other glove of his hand. Next, he gets extremely close to him, hand sneaking under the back of Lúcio’s jeans. There he felt the soft plush skin of his ass.  
Lúcio jolts, leaning now against the tall mercenary, arms going around his torso. He holds another gasp as the dry rough fingers make slow contact with his entrance, his dick twitching. Reaper teases by circling the finger around the entrance and slowly insert it in with unexpected ease. “Were you playing with yourself?” Reaper swears he could feel traces of some kind of lubricant.

“....an hour ago.” Lúcio sighs, letting the finger explore deeper. “Funny… I planned to end this and look where we are.”

Reaper had to agree with it. “Why are we doing this?”

Lúcio pursed his lips. “You feel it, don’t you? That little thrill one gets when making out with someone dangerous.”

Reaper tilted his head, almost like this guy could read him like a book. “I guess so.”

“So you see me dangerous? I’m flattered.” Lúcio mutters are interrupted when he feels the rough finger go deeper. He arches while Reaper’s other arms hold his back to maintain the balance.

“This wont do.” Reaper thought, removing his finger from Lúcio’s entrance and drag him to the bed. Lúcio let him do whatever he wants, his mind too horny to argue. His body was dropped to the bed on his stomach, his ass in the air and pants removed with ease. The finger slide back inside, exploring his inner walls and goes deeper. Lúcio whimpers, body clenching at every movement of the intrusion. Out of desperation, he grabs the nearest pillow to muffle his face. He feels a second finger be inserted, his body trembling. His hips buck, his hard dick hanging and twitching. He wants to slam his hips on the bed, desperate for his cock to have any form of friction.

All he can think of is the actual dick, the real pounding that comes with Reaper’s monstrous growl. He jolts and trembles, feeling the fingers finally rub against his sweet spot. Lúcio appreciates the consideration yet he wanted more. He wanted those fingers to pound hard and make him cum hard.

And yet he wants to save that feeling for when he feels the real thing.

“Just how much lube did you use?”

“Mmmffff… A lot.” He pants, swearing he caught a glimpse of the dark tendrils lurking over the bed. He wasn't wrong as one coils around his left wrist, dragging it behind the back. Another tendril joins and does the same with the other arm. He is again trapped and he welcomed it. It only made his cock beg for more but all he can do is roll his hips against air.

“I promise I won’t hurt you.” Reaper assures. Lúcio nods back but he didnt care. He wouldn’t mind if the mercenary left him with hundreds of bruises. He wouldn't mind if he fucked his brains out.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Reaper underestimated Lúcio, again. This young man has skill. He has definitely done this before. How is Lúcio able to ride him while having his arms bound behind his back by his tendrils? How is he able to keep his mouth quiet, only forcing out low grunts and panting? Reaper barely is able to keep his mouth shut, hands gripping at Lúcio’s hips, following with his movement.

Lúcio felt the same. He couldn't believe what he is doing. He couldn’t believe how he was taking charge in riding this dangerous man, rolling his hips like if he was dancing. His back arches, Reaper’s cock hitting his prostate. Lúcio’s own cock bounced, dripping with pre in desperate need to be touched and pumped.

He looks down at reaper, exhausted mixed with excitement. He force a smile, eyes revealing his excitement as he clenches his walls around the sensitive cock. Reaper growls along with his bruising grip, hips shifting hard. Lúcio almost goes cross eyed by the movement but watches as Reaper regains his composure stopping all movement. He huffs and rasps, desperate to remove this bother of a mask. But he discards the idea, not wanting to ruin the moment.

His mouth almost lets out a moan, feeling Lúcio’s inner walls clench around his dick once again. He was taunting him, that fucker. “You like it? Do you? My walls choking your sweet huge cock? For how long have you fantasized about it? Eh?” He repeats the movement, awaiting for Reaper to break.

“I didn't expect you so….”

“Dirty?” Lúcio chuckles. His arms are bound but he knows he has full control. Part of him wants to fuck around in his dominant side while the other wants to be dominated. Such conflicted feelings. He will have to flip a coin for this.

Oh fuck it. Literally.

“Finish me off.” That wasn’t a suggestion. Lúcio ordered it. Reaper chuckles from under the mask, flipping their position. Lúcio is resting on the mattress and Reaper was back to being on top. He is fast, desperate, like an animal and Lúcio couldn't care. All he felt was the mix of pain and pleasure. Sweaty skins smacking against each other. The bruising pains only adding more to his sexual excitement. He was getting close. Too close. Lúcio’s arms struggled with the tendrils. A short cry slips off of him but is quickly muffled by another tendril. He moans through it, watching as the mercenary keeps up with the fucking, dry hands wrapping around Lúcio’s aching hard cock...

Lúcio loses it, the pressure and heat releasing. Reaper keeps himself under control, the choking pressure of Lúcio’s walls overwhelming. All Lúcio sees is stars, breathing fast through the tendril. His legs tremble, string of semen spills over his naked abdomen and chest.  
Lúcio felt drained but satisfied. But Reaper didn’t stop. His dick kept pounding at the sensitive prostate. Lúcio’s body tense, unable to concentrate like if his orgasm wanted to continue. It was already to the point of overstimulation. He could pass out by this. Reaper low growl was a sign. His last pounding stops, body trembling while climaxing inside Lúcio. As the sensation begins to wear, Reaper’s legs lose their strength falling over Lúcio’s body. The tendrils pull away, leaving bruises over Lúcio’s skin. Lúcio catches his breath, his vision still blurry due to the mixture of darkness and recuperation of an incredible orgasm. He didn’t mind that Reaper didn’t pull away yet.

“Foda…” All Lúcio wishes is that he could go and kiss this man. It is unfair they just stop and rest. But Reaper insists that he doesn’t want to remove his mask. It's his privacy. Lúcio should respect that. “[Whoa… That was incredible…]” Lúcio mumbled, not realizing he switched to his native tongue. [Sooo sooo fucking orgasmic…]

Reaper didn’t need translation. “Thanks for the compliment.” He rolls off of Lúcio, body flipping and facing the ceiling. He swore he almost shifted to mist mid orgasm. It was a pure miracle he didn’t.

“Any last details to add? Before we… Part ways?”

“Just be wary. Don’t be alone. Like now. Lay low from missions for a while.”

Lúcio is barely able to lift a muscle, pacing his breathing. “I still got a job to do. I help people. It’s my duty.”

“That sense of duty gets one killed.” Reaper reminds him, slipping back his glove.

“Thats life.”

Reaper gives out a long sigh. “I need a moment to take this off.” He gestures his mask. “Can you look away?”

Lúcio huffs but decides to oblige him, rolling to his side in the opposite direction, facing the hotel bathroom. Watching from the bathroom mirror he could see Reaper sit up. Part of him is tempted to continue to watch in secrecy. He want to see how Reaper looks in his worse.

And yet he didn’t. His eyes close shut, respecting Reaper’s wishes.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Lúcio dozed off on the bed after taking a quick shower, too exhausted to slip in his satin bonnet. Reaper watches him, gloved hand caressing his cheek one last time before he dissolves into mist. He escapes the hotel through the small gap of the balcony, not looking back. Reaching to a nearby town, he reverts back to his original form within the alley. A cat resting on the pile of trash scampers away in fear.

Reaper pulls out a holopad from his pocket. He stares at the device without activating it, unsure what to expect. He hasn’t called or responded to any Talon messages. What sort of reprimand awaits him for going full AWOL?

He switches on the device, the holo screen revealing the mass amount of unread messages and missed calls from Talon. He fucked up big time. He knows that. He is not even sure if he can return to Talon. What else can he do? Where else can he go to? Who else can treat his incurable condition?

His fingers select the most recent message, knowing it is hopeless.

 

_Reaper_

_Since you have failed to execute the mission and report to back us, we had the assumption you were killed in action. It was not until Sombra provided us the security tape and other evidence of your current whereabouts. It is clear you are not interested or capable in accomplishing this mission. It is also clear that you were interacting and aiding the enemy. This will not go unpunished when you return to headquarters. Dr. O’Deorian and I will handle this ourselves. Do not get in our way like you did with the others._

_Akande Ogundimu_   
_Sent: 9:24 pm_

 

Reaper froze, reading the message again and again. His head turns back to the direction where he came from, where Lúcio’s current location is. He takes one step, intending to return until he hears the sound of a familiar gun cocking. He stays still, turning his head a few degrees letting out a long sigh. “Sombra.”

She deactivated her stealth mode behind him; machine pistol at his head. This by no chance can kill him, but it works perfect as a stun. “Sorry, Gabe. Doomfist’s orders.”

Perfect. Just perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to thank all my readers/commenters for having so much patience with me. If it weren't for my country's crisis I may have updated faster my fics but I am still pushing through! Heavy thank you to all! 
> 
> Also I just opened a Ko-fi!
> 
> ko-fi.com/milliecoqui
> 
> Want to talk more about fanfics? Overwatch? You can find me here~
> 
> my tumblr: http://millie-on-a-leaf.tumblr.com  
> My twitter: https://twitter.com/Millie_Coqui  
> My nsfw tumblr: https://the-naughty-leaf.tumblr.com


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